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HARRY DALE, 
CITY SALESMAN 


v 






















■ 




































































. 




























































































































a 


‘Dale has been wasting a bit of my time out here.’ ” 


[page 129] 





HARRY DALE, 
CITY SALESMAN 


BY 

SHERWOOD DOWLING 

AUTHOR OP "STRUGGLING UPWARD,” ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED BY 
GEORGE HARKER 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
NEW YORK LONDON 


1916 



Copyright, 1916, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



OCT -2 1916 


Printed in the United States of America 


©CI.A4386G3 

Vi? ( 


CONTENTS 

t 


GHAPTEB PAGE 


I. 

An Unexpected Meeting 




i 

II. 

The Daylight Club . 




12 

III. 

Good Advice 




29 

IV. 

Trickery . 




46 

V. 

Thoughts of Revenge 




63 

VI. 

Squareness Pays 




80 

VII. 

Slander 




98 

VIII. 

Keith Bars the Way 




114 

IX. 

A New Plan 




131 

X. 

Harry’s Campaign 




140 

XI. 

Success 




157 

XII. 

A New Horizon 




171 

XIII. 

The Sheppard Prize . 




184 








































' » 
























. 


























































































1 


























































































I 






























































LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘Dale has been wasting a bit of my time 

out here’ ” . . . . Frontispiece ^ 

FACING 

PAGE 

‘It’s made up of gentlemen’ ” . . . . 26 v 

‘Well, student,’ he asked, ‘got its pedigree?’” . 50 1 


Five minutes later Harry stood in the presence 

of Mr. Sheppard himself” . . . .188 


It, 


HARRY DALE, CITY 
SALESMAN 


CHAPTER I 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 



HE young man who likes his job is 


X alive. He doesn’t sit back and fold his 
hands and wait for things to happen. 

Harry Dale liked his job. He came out of 
the salesroom of the Economy Skirt Com- 
pany with a few samples over his arm. The 
elevator was several stories above. It was 
a slow, crawling affair, and its trips were 
leisurely made. So, instead of waiting, Harry 
ran down several flights of stairs to the street. 

“Can’t waste time,” he thought. He took 
a notebook from his pocket and studied the 
list of firms he would call on that afternoon. 


i 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Harry was city salesman for the A. R. Shep- 
pard Company. He had started in the cloth 
department at the cutting table, but had speed- 
ily been advanced to a place as stock clerk. 
In stock he had worked hard and had used his 
head, and had not watched the clock. As a 
result Mr. MacMackin, the department head, 
had sent him forth to canvas new firms, firms 
so small that it would not pay to cultivate 
them with high-priced, experienced salesmen. 

Harry had tackled his job with vim. At 
first he had had a hard time. Then, through 
using his brains and thinking about his busi- 
ness, he placed a large order with the Econ- 
omy Skirt Company, and along came another 
promotion. He was made a full-fledged city 
salesman with the privilege of selling any firm 
he could reach be it large or small. 

Harry had now been a city salesman for 
several months. Instead of growing stale, this 
game of business grew more interesting every 
day. 


2 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 

He intended to call on a firm half a mile 
away. He walked rapidly as befitted a man 
who was thoroughly alive. At a street corner 
a stream of roadway traffic halted him. And 
while he stood there waiting, his nostrils sud- 
denly began to quiver and his stomach felt 
suddenly weak. 

What was that smell? Something to eat. 
For the first time he remembered that he had 
had no dinner. He traced the odor. It came 
from a corner restaurant, a quiet little place 
that he had probably passed a dozen times and 
had never noticed. 

He wanted to be on his way. Each mo- 
ment, however, he became hungrier. Finally 
he shook his head and laughed. 

“I guess,” he said, “my stomach knows 
what it needs,” and walked toward the 
restaurant. 

Though he had not wanted to take the time 
to eat, he had no intention of hurrying through 
his meal. While he had been at high school, 
3 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

a wise athletic director had told him the im- 
portance of taking plenty of time with his 
food. He knew, too, the folly of loading his 
stomach with pie and cake. His order was 
for roast beef, a baked potato, and lettuce 
salad. 

After the waiter departed, he glanced 
around the place. It was neat and clean and 
homelike. Harry thought it was the coziest 
restaurant he had ever found. Now, if the 
food was good 

The food was excellent. The beef was ten- 
der, the potato was not soggy, and the salad 
was crisp and fresh. 

“I’ll eat here often,” Harry thought, and 
gave thanks that he had found such a place. 

A shadow fell across his table. 

“Why, hello!” said a voice. “If this isn’t 
Dale.” 

Harry glanced up. A young man stood fac- 
ing him, a young man whose clothes were of 
the latest cut and fashion, a young man who 
4 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 


carried a cane, a young man from whose lips 
drooped a cigarette. 

“Why, hello, Billings !” said Harry. “What 
are you doing here?” 

“Eating,” said Billings, “up to a moment 
ago.” He drew out a chair and sat down. His 
hand rested lightly on the table, and on one 
of the fingers Harry saw a diamond ring. He 
thought that Billings had intended that he 
should see the ring. 

“Well,” said Billings, “how goes it with 
you?” 

“All right,” said Harry. 

Billings yawned. “Still holding down my 
old job in the broadcloth stock?” 

“No,” said Harry. “I’m selling goods.” 

At that Billings’s yawn vanished. He sat 
bolt upright. “Selling goods?” he demanded 
sharply. 

Harry nodded. 

Billings stared at him. Why, he was only 
a kid. Selling goods? Pshaw! they probably 
5 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

had him carrying samples for some of the real 
salesmen. 

“A. R. Sheppard’s going back,” Billings 
said loftily. “Believe me, I’m not sorry I 
quit them.” 

Harry struggled to hide a smile. Billings 
had not quit; he had been discharged for neg- 
lecting his work. And, judging by appear- 
ances, he had not changed for the better. 

“I’m selling goods myself,” Billings said, 
“for a live firm.” He took a leather, gold- 
monogrammed card case from his pocket and 
handed Harry a slip of pasteboard. Harry 
read: 


A. W. BILLINGS 
Representing 

PRINCE, HENDERSON & PRINCE 

“Some firm,” said Billings; “you have to 
be a live wire to work there.” He selected an- 
other cigarette. “Smoke, Dale?” 

6 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 

Harry shook his head. 

“I couldn’t get along without my puff,” said 
Billings. “But, of course, it must be good to- 
bacco. I pay thirty-five cents a pack for these. 
What do you know about that?” 

“It’s a lot of money,” said Harry. 

Billings waved an airy hand. “It’s a gen- 
tleman’s smoke. I believe in doing things 
right. I’m getting on in the world, too. Last 
month I sold $3,000 worth of goods.” 

Harry said nothing. Last month he had 
sold almost $4,000. 

“They like me down where I am,” said Bil- 
lings. “I tell you, it pays to get into a house 
where things are appreciated. Do you re- 
member Claxton?” 

Harry did. Mr. Claxton was one of the 
salesmen of the cloth department. 

“Now take Claxton,” said Billings. “When 
I was down there he was always riding me 
because I took pride in my personal appear- 
ance. Where I am now they like it. They 
7 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

know I’m a gentleman. So they try to push 
me along.” He gave Harry a glance. “Of 
course, I don’t want to be offensive, Dale, but 
I’m older than you. I know a bit more. You 
ought to throw a better front.” 

“A better front?” asked Harry. 

“Yes. You ought to dress better. Get a lit- 
tle style. It helps a whole lot.” 

This time Harry’s smile was broad. He 
was well satisfied with his own neat business 
suit. Billings saw the smile. 

“Of course,” he said, “if you’re not really 
selling goods ” 

Harry handed him a card: 


HARRY DALE 

Cloth Dept., 

A. R. SHEPPARD CO. 

Billings winced. There could be no doubt 
but that Harry was selling goods, for the 
Sheppard Company did not allow stock clerks 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 

to use business cards. He had come over to 
the table expecting to patronize Harry and 
make him feel cheap. And here was Harry 
holding a job probably as good as his own. 

Yet Billings, after that first moment, af- 
fected a vast unconcern. 

“I guess the Sheppard people are going 
back,” he said. “A man has to have class to 
hang on with Prince, Henderson & Prince.” 

“You have the class,” Harry admitted. 

“Now you’ve said something,” Billings 
grinned. So he had impressed this youngster! 
Well, things were not so bad, after all. 

Harry, who had finished eating, glanced at 
his watch. It was a plain, silver timepiece. 
Billings, with an air of unconcern, plucked out 
a gold watch that was wafer thin. 

“Three-fifteen,” said Harry. 

“Correct,” said Billings. He arose and 
yawned. “Out late last night,” he explained. 

Harry paid his check. They walked to the 
door. 


9 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Anything on tap?’ 7 Billings asked. “Run 
along to my club. 77 

“Your club? 77 Harry looked at him in 
surprise. 

“A man must belong to a club or two, 77 Bil- 
lings said indifferently, “if he 7 s going to cut 
any ice. Come along. 77 

But Harry shook his head and explained 
that he had work to do. 

Billings was aghast. “At this hour of the 
day? 77 

“Yes. 77 

“Good night 1 Why, the day is over. 77 

“Oh, no. 77 Harry laughed. “Why, I can 
see four or five people before six o’clock. 77 

“And do you work that late every day? 77 

“Every day but Saturday. 77 

Billings whistled. “You must be hard up 
for sales. Why, I sold four bills before one 
o’clock. So I go and eat a quiet meal and then 
I’m through. What’s the use of killing your- 
self? 77 

io 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 


“I don’t like sitting around doing nothing,” 
Harry said. 

“Every man to his own taste,” Billings 
yawned. “I wouldn’t think of starting in to 
work after three o’clock. You won’t come to 
the club?” 

“Not today, thank you.” 

“Well, so long. See you some other time.” 

Billings strolled off down the street, swing- 
ing his cane with careless ease. Harry shook 
his head. He was half-amused at the other’s 
pretensions, and half sorry to see him pursuing 
such a course. 

“Poor Billings,” he said. “He’ll never get 
anywhere that way.” 


CHAPTER II 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 

F OR several days Harry was a busy young 
man. It was early summer. Goods for 
the fall trade were beginning to move. At 
this season of the year, though lightweight 
fabrics still sold, the heavier cloths made the 
most work. Manufacturers were busy making 
up sample garments for the fall and winter 
trade, and there was heavy buying of five- and 
ten-yard cuts. The total of these sales did not 
bulk large. Yet there were so many of them 
that they required a deal of labor. Harry did 
not have much time during the day to think of 
anything but business. 

In the evenings, though, his mind several 
times drifted back to Billings. He had noth- 
ing against the former stock clerk, but he 


12 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


hoped their paths would not cross any oftener 
than was necessary. That they would occa- 
sionally meet was almost a certainty. Prince, 
Henderson & Prince were a cloth house. To 
this extent they were rivals. Handling the 
same line as they did, it was probable that at 
times they would be canvassing the same 
houses. 

Selling goods was not all peaches and cream. 
Many times Harry found himself perplexed 
by problems and disheartened by failure. 
Sometimes the sale he thought was as good 
as made slipped through his fingers. But by 
degrees, as he went on with his work, he 
learned that it was best to try to take the good 
and the bad with philosophy. 

Mr. Hecker, one of the older salesmen, 
often helped to steady him. 

“A man mustn’t always be watching for re- 
sults,” Mr. Hecker said. “I don’t mean he 
should be careless of results. He should en- 
deavor to bring himself to a point where he 
13 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

can get satisfaction out of the fact that he has 
worked faithfully and well, and should try to 
make himself believe that good work in the 
end will always bring its reward.” 

Harry’s face looked as though he did not 
quite understand. 

“I’ll put it another way,” Mr. Hecker 
smiled. “At high school you played foot- 
ball?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did you always win?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Were you disappointed when you lost?” 

“Oh, yes.” 

“Bitterly disappointed?” 

“Well ” 

“Yes; go on, Harry.” 

Harry smiled. “I see what you mean. 
Even though we lost, we still had had the fun 
of the game and the knowledge that we had 
played hard. There was also the feeling that 
next time we’d win. You mean that the man 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


who plays the business game fair will get a lot 
of satisfaction out of that. If something goes 
wrong, he doesn’t have to accuse himself of 
having spoiled his chances. No matter how 
hard he loses today, tomorrow he has another 
chance to win.” 

“If he doesn’t quit,” said Mr. Hecker. 

Harry laughed. “No fear of my quitting. 
I get discouraged only for a little while.” 

By the end of a week Harry had completely 
forgotten Billings. Then, one morning, his 
telephone rang. 

“Dale?” a voice asked. 

“Yes; this is Dale.” 

“Hello, old man!” came the voice again. 
“Busy?” 

“No.” 

“Good. This is Billings.” 

It happened that for once Harry was not 
busy. Nor had he planned to visit his trade 
that afternoon. He had thought to spend an 
hour or two cutting samples and reading the 
IS 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

trade journals. Jet, when he heard the voice 
say “Billings,” he was sorry that he had an- 
swered so promptly. 

“Made a couple of sales last week,” Bil- 
lings boasted. “Crackajack sales. I want to 
celebrate. Take dinner with me, will you?” 

Harry hesitated. He wished that he hadn’t 
been so ready to admit that he was idle. 
However, having admitted idleness, he 
could not refuse the invitation without giving 
offense. 

“All right,” he said half-heartedly. 

“Meet me at Connie’s,” Billings went on. 
“You know, the place where we met once be- 
fore. One o’clock sharp. I’ll be looking for 
you. Good-by.” 

“Good-by.” 

Harry came away from the telephone 
vaguely puzzled. Why had Billings invited 
him to dinner? In the old days they had never 
been friendly. Billings had even hinted, when 
he left Sheppard’s, that Harry had been re- 
16 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


sponsible for the loss of his job. Yet here he 
was extending invitations. 

“He wants something,” Harry reflected. 
“He has an ax to grind.” 

A few minutes before one o’clock Harry 
entered the restaurant. Billings sprang up 
from a seat in the rear of the place. 

“This way, old man,” he called. “I had 
this table reserved.” 

Harry took the other chair. Billings had 
blossomed since their last meeting. He now 
had a diamond stick pin, and an expensive 
looking cigarette case lay alongside his 
napkin. 

“Did you bring your appetite?” he asked 
genially. “I like to do the thing in style when 
I start. How about some oysters, a tomato 
bisque, some roast lamb and peas, a salad, cof- 
fee and ice cream?” 

Harry protested weakly that he never ate 
much of a dinner. 

“Shucks!” Billings laughed. “We’ll have 
17 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

to educate your stomach. What do you say 
to a cocktail?” 

“Thank you,” Harry answered, “I don’t 
touch liquor.” 

Billings gave a superior smile. He nodded 
to the waiter. Presently the man brought him 
an amber-colored drink. Billings tossed it 
down his throat. 

“That’s the stuff to give you an appetite,” 
he said. 

Harry said nothing. He thought he knew 
a better way: hard work, a good walk in the 
open air, and eight hours sleep at night. 

The dinner ran its course. Over the oysters 
Billings confided that the house of Prince, 
Henderson & Prince thought him a wonder. 
While he ate his soup he enlarged on the duty 
of a salesman to mix in and get acquainted. 

“Nothing like it,” he said. “The more 
friends you have the better off you are. And 
where do you think is the best place to make 
friends?” 


18 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


Harry didn’t know. 

“ A club,” said Billings. “Meet the men in 
your own line. Swap experiences and ideas. 
That’s what does it.” 

Several times, while they ate the lamb and 
peas, Billings spoke further about the value 
of places where men could gather. When the 
ice cream was brought, he leaned across the 
table with an air of confidence. 

“How about it now, Dale, do you belong to 
a club?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“Mistake,” Billings told him earnestly. “I 
never knew a good fellow who wasn’t a club- 
man. It’s classy. It means that you’re some- 
body.” 

The thought came to Harry that he wasn’t 
so much interested in being a good fellow as 
he was in being a good salesman. 

“I’ve taken a liking to you,” Billings went 
on. “You’re only a kid and I want to see you 
get on the right road. ‘Help one another!’ 
19 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

That’s my motto. I’m going to put up your 
name for membership in the Daylight Club.” 

“I — I don’t think I’d care to join,” Harry 
protested. 

“What!” Billings looked at him with an 
air of surprise. “Don’t care to join? How’s 
that?” 

“I don’t think I’d care for a club.” 

“How do you know? Did you ever belong 
to one?” 

“No.” 

“Then how do you know?” 

Harry was at a loss for an answer. He felt 
that Billings had him cornered. And Billings, 
seeing his hesitation, adopted an injured air. 

“That’s a fine way to insult me,” he said. 

“Insult you?” Harry’s eyes opened wide. 

“That’s what I said. I suppose you didn’t 
mean it, though. Well, I suppose I’ll have to 
put you straight. When one gentleman says 
that he’ll propose another into his club, it’s a 
big honor. It’s a sign of confidence. When I 


20 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


say I’ll propose you in the Daylight Club it’s 
just the same as telling you that I think you’re 
all right, and that I’m standing for you, and 
that I want you to meet all my friends. You 
didn’t look at it in that light, did you?” 

“No,” said Harry. 

“And about not liking clubs Pshaw! 

How are you going to know you won’t like it? 
Ever been inside a club?” 

“No.” 

Billings blew a cloud of smoke toward the 
ceiling. “I tell you what I’ll do,” he said. 
“I’ll take you around to the Daylight Club. 
No harm in looking it over, is there?” 

“N-no.” 

“Well, come along. I’ll take you around 
there now. Then you’ll have an idea what 
it’s like.” 

Harry did not see how he could refuse. He 
had an idea that Billings had invited him to 
dinner for no other purpose than to bring up 
this subject. 


21 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Billings paid the dinner check, and took 
pains to see that Harry should observe that the 
waiter had been given a twenty- five-cent tip. 
They came out to the sidewalk. Billings de- 
plored the absence of a taxicab, explaining 
that he always liked to go to his club 
like a gentleman. If that was the kind of 
club it was, Harry was quite sure that his 
visit would be wasted. He wanted nothing 
to do with expensive things like taxicabs. A 
trolley car was good enough for him and far 
cheaper. 

They walked along the avenue, and Billings 
spoke at length about the advantages of club 
life, a place to rest after a strenuous day, an 
atmosphere of breeding, the companionship 
of good fellows. When he said “strenuous 
day” Harry almost smiled. Billings and a 
strenuous day seemed to have little in com- 
mon. 

They came to the wholesale dry goods dis- 
trict. Set among giants of business houses was 


22 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


a narrow, two-story building. Harry had 
often wondered what it could be. Billings led 
the way up the six steps that led to the door- 
way. He took a key from his pocket, and a 
moment later they were inside. 

The hall was dark, and musty, and heavy 
with stale smells. Upstairs there were loud 
voices. Somebody pounded on the floor and 
a voice yelled to stop that racket. 

“They’re having a good time,” said Bil- 
lings. 

He led the way upstairs. From the top of 
the landing they looked into the first of three 
rooms. The air was thick with tobacco smoke. 

“Gentlemen,” said Billings, “I take pleas- 
ure in presenting Mr. Dale of the Sheppard 
Company.” 

A dozen young men crowded around Harry 
and were introduced. The last was Arnold 
Keith, a blond young fellow with tired, heavy 
eyes and a pale, washed-out face. 

“Keith is assistant buyer for the Crescent 
23 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Cloak and Suit Company,” Billings explained. 
“Hard work keeps him thin.” 

Keith winked. “Very much. I wish I were 
rich. Pd show you fellows how to live.” 

“Keith is a high-flyer,” Billings added. 

Keith took this as a compliment. He stuck 
his thumbs in the armpits of his vest and 
rocked back and forth on his heels. 

“Coming into the club?” he asked Harry. 

“I’m proposing him at the next meeting,” 
Billings said hastily. “I thought I’d bring 
him in today and show him around.” 

“That’s the stuff,” said Keith. “No*trouble 
to show goods. Come along, Dale.” 

Harry was led into the front room. Four 
members were playing pool at a table that had 
certainly seen better days. Just as they en- 
tered one of the players made a shot, and a 
ball dropped into a pocket. The player banged 
his cue on the floor. 

“That’s her,” he said. “Come across, gen- 
tlemen.” 


24 


THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


The other players tossed coins at him, and 
he caught them deftly. Harry felt a chill of 
dismay. Why, they were playing pool for 
money. This was gambling. 

“Can you beat it?” Billings asked. “When 
you’ve been running around the city and 
you’re tired, drop in for a game. It rests 
you up. You go out feeling like a new 
man.” 

Harry was sure that if he breathed much of 
that stale, smoke-laden air, he’d go out feeling 
like an invalid. 

They went back to the room they had first 
entered. Here chairs were drawn up around 
tables on which rested reading matter. Harry 
expected to see trade journals and business 
magazines. Instead, the publications seemed 
all to be of a frivolous nature. Young men 
sprawled indolently in the chairs, and smoked 
and gossiped. 

“Isn’t that restful?” Billings whispered. 
“That’s the way to take your ease.” 

25 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

In the last room another group of young 
men were playing cards at a green-covered 
table. For a few moments Harry looked on. 
It did not take him long to discover that this 
game was for money, too. 

“There’s one thing about this club,” Billings 
told him earnestly. “It’s made up of gentle- 
men. You could play cards here all day and 
you’d never get cheated.” 

Harry was disgusted. He plucked out his 
watch and remarked that he had to get back. 

“I thought you weren’t busy,” Billings said 
suspiciously. 

“I must get samples ready for tomorrow.” 

Two of the players looked at Harry sus- 
piciously. Billings laughed. 

“Dale is a busy bee,” he explained. 

“He’s young,” Keith chuckled. “He’ll get 
over it.” 

Harry moved toward the door. He ex- 
pected Billings to follow. But the card play- 
ers were making room around the table and 
26 


“ ‘It’s made up of gentlemen.’ ” 









•L 











THE DAYLIGHT CLUB 


drawing up another chair, and Billings was 
taking off his coat. 

“So long, Dale,” he said. “Glad you came 
around. Hope you’ll like us. I’ll put up your 
name at the next meeting.” 

Harry shook hands. As he reached the hall 
an argument broke out at the pool table. One 
of the players called another an ugly name. 
Then footsteps ran through the rooms. A 
voice said something about keeping quiet or 
things would be queered. Harry was sure that 
the voice had been that of Arnold Keith. 

The air of the hall seemed viler, if pos- 
sible, than when he had first entered the house. 
He stumbled down the stairs, feeling his way 
with his hands along the wall. Presently he 
came to the door. He had some difficulty with 
the lock, but at last it opened, and he stepped 
out into the sunshine. 

Eagerly he took several deep breaths as 
though to clear his lungs of something foul. 
How good the sunshine was ! How warm and 
27 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

sweet the air. In the house that he had just 
left these men kept the windows almost closed, 
and spent hours in a reeking, stale atmosphere. 
Harry shivered. 

As he started down the few outdoor steps he 
was conscious that two men had stopped on the 
other side of the street. As he reached the last 
step he raised his eyes. Mr. Hecker and Mr. 
MacMackin were staring across at him, and 
the face of the head of the cloth department 
was stern. 


CHAPTER III 


GOOD ADVICE 

H ARRY felt the blood rush into his face. 

He bowed, and wondered if the men 
would come over to him. Instead, Mr. Mac- 
Mackin nodded curtly and spoke to Mr. 
Hecker. They walked on. 

“Something told me not to come to this 
place,” Harry muttered. 

From the glance that Mr. MacMackin had 
given him, he was quite sure that the head 
of his department knew the Daylight Club 
and what it was. And he was equally sure that 
Mr. MacMackin thought him a frequenter of 
the place. 

Harry had intended to go directly to the 
cloth department. Now, however, he was too 
much upset to think of work. He walked 

29 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

through the streets of the dry goods district 
for half an hour until he found himself 
calmer. 

As he turned his steps toward the big build- 
ing of the A. R. Sheppard Company he 
thought of going straight to Mr. MacMackin 
and telling his story. At first this plan seemed 
good ; but as he thought it over it began to lose 
its charm. He thought that if he went run- 
ning around with explanations before he was 
accused of anything, it would look as though 
he were the possessor of a guilty conscience. 

When he reached his desk in the cloth de- 
partment there were a few letters awaiting 
him. Two contained small orders. Another 
letter asked for samples. He collected the 
goods ordered, made out shipping tickets, and 
started them downstairs toward the entry de- 
partment. He cut his samples and dropped 
them down a mail chute. Then he set to work 
cutting the samples that he would use on the 
morrow. 


30 


GOOD ADVICE 

Several times he saw Mr. Hecker. The 
salesman, however, said nothing about the 
Daylight Club. Harry thought, though, that 
Mr. Hecker looked at him appraisingly, and 
he was hurt. The veteran salesman had been 
one of his staunchest friends, and had always 
been ready with advice. Harry felt another 
impulse to explain. However, he choked it 
down. He was resolved to wait. 

Once that day he met Mr. MacMackin in 
an aisle. The department head asked him a 
few business questions and turned back to- 
ward his office. His face had been a mask. 

When closing time came, Harry left the 
store rather disappointed. He had hoped that 
an explanation would be demanded of him. 
Nothing, however, had been said about that 
meeting outside the club. 

At home that night the boy told his father. 
Mr. Dale listened attentively. 

“It would have been just as well,” he said, 
“had you gone to Mr. MacMackin at once. 
3i 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

There is little that goes on in the dry goods 
district, I fancy, that he does not know. He 
probably is aware of the nature of the Day- 
light Club.” 

“I’ll go to him in the morning,” Harry 
vowed. 

Mr. Dale shook his head. “You’re too late, 
son. It might look as though you waited a 
day so as to make up a story that would hold 
water. So long as you allowed your first op- 
portunity to pass, I should advise that you wait 
a bit longer. And hereafter, whenever you 
find yourself in a questionable position, come 
right out in the open. The man who is hon- 
est need never fear, nor has he anything to 
conceal.” 

Next morning Harry came to the store, at- 
tended to his mail, and went forth with his 
samples. He had rather a good day. At five 
o’clock he returned to the store, wrote out the 
orders that had to go at once and handed them 
to the stock clerks. The other orders he 
32 


GOOD ADVICE 


\ 


wrote, but left them where they could be 
made up first thing in the morning. While he 
worked Mr. MacMackin twice passed his 
desk. 

“You’re becoming the popular hero,” Mr. 
Claxton told him. Mr. Claxton was a merry 
salesman with a fund of stories. He believed 
in selling goods on his popularity, and he had 
a habit of praising all goods to the skies. More 
than once Harry had questioned the soundness 
of his method. 

“I say,” Mr. Claxton repeated, “you’re be- 
coming the popular hero.” 

“Am I?” Harry looked around. “How’s 
that?” 

“Somebody called you a dozen times today.” 
The salesman lowered his voice. “Seen any- 
thing of our old friend Billings lately?” 

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?” 

“I thought it was Billings’s voice.” 

“I — I met him once or twice,” Harry ad- 
mitted. 


33 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Well, well ! Has he improved any? Does 
he still manicure his nails? Is he still the 
Beau Brummel of them all?” 

Harry laughed. “The same old Billings, I 
guess.” 

“I thought as much.” Mr. Claxton sighed. 
“To think of all the fatherly advice I wasted 
on that fellow. I had an idea that losing his 
job here would wake him up. Well, I’m 
thankful that you, at least, are a credit to my 
teachings.” 

Harry smiled. It was a cheerful habit of 
Mr. Claxton’s to claim a share of credit for 
any good that happened in the department. 

Harry was sure that Billings would con- 
tinue to call him. He was equally sure that 
he did not want to meet the young man who 
was cutting such a shine at Prince, Hender- 
son & Prince’s. He got in the habit of leav- 
ing the store early in the morning, and he 
stopped eating at Connie’s. And thus a week 
passed. 


34 


GOOD ADVICE 


“Did Mr. MacMackin ask you- about the 
club?” Mr. Dale inquired one night. 

“No, sir,” Harry answered. 

“Have you noticed any change in his treat- 
ment of you?” 

“Not now. I thought at first that he acted 
queerly, but I guess I must have imagined it. 
Everything’s all right.” 

Mr. Dale nodded. “Perhaps he thinks that 
as you’re doing a man’s work you’re old 
enough to know what’s good for you and what 
isn’t.” 

“Of course I am,” said Harry. 

Mr. Dale smiled. “At the same time,” he 
went on, “he is a man who takes a great inter- 
est in the young chaps he is developing. It 
isn’t like him to let a thing like that slide. If 
he thought you were getting into bad com- 
pany he’d bring it up sooner or later. You 
may hear from him yet.” 

Harry, however, did not let that worry him. 
As a matter of fact he had concluded that Mr. 
35 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

MacMackin did not know the nature of the 
club. 

Another week passed. Orders began to 
come in to Harry from the manufacturers to 
whom he had sold small cuts. His hard work, 
day after day, was beginning to tell. There 
was every prospect that he was going to have 
a fine season. 

Each Saturday morning the department 
bookkeeper, a Mr. Creighton, gave to Mr. 
MacMackin a statement showing the amount 
of goods each salesman had sold that week. 
On this particular Saturday morning the list 
showed that Harry was going ahead in fine 
style. 

The department head studied the list and 
sent for Mr. Hecker. Together they talked 
it over. 

“Dale!” Mr. MacMackin called. 

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered. 

“This way, please.” Mr. MacMackin and 
Mr. Hecker walked into the department 
36 


GOOD ADVICE 


head’s little office. Harry followed, wonder- 
ing what in the world this conference could 
be about. 

“Dale,” said Mr. MacMackin, “I do not 
want to swell your head, but the fact remains 
that you show great promise. I should not 
tell you this were it not that you are a steady, 
hard worker. Hard workers, as a rule, can 
stand a bit of praise.” 

Harry flushed. 

“I have the weekly report on my desk. For 
a young salesman you are doing very well. 
You should, in time, develop a fine trade. 
You have a future, Dale, and I do not want 
to see that future ruined.” 

Harry’s flush deepened. 

“If I did not take an interest in you,” Mr, 
MacMackin went on, “I should not speak to 
you along this line, nor would I say what I am 
about to say. I have always treated you fairly, 
have I not, Dale?” 

“Yes, sir.” 


37 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“You know I have your interest at heart?’’ 

“I am sure of it, sir.” 

“Then please understand that I have your 
interest at heart when I question you. Are 
you a member of the Daylight Club?” 

The flush left Harry’s face. “No, sir,” he 
answered. 

“Are you about to become a member?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Ah!” Mr. MacMackin seemed pleased. 
Mr. Hecker smiled as though he had heard 
good news. 

“A few weeks ago, Dale, Mr. Hecker and 
I met you ” 

“I remember that day, sir.” 

“Ah! Were you coming out of the Day- 
light Club on that occasion?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You had been in the club?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How did you come to go there?” 

“A member took me there.” 

38 


GOOD ADVICE 


“What for?” 

“He wanted to propose me for member- 
ship.” 

“And has he proposed you?” 

“I — I think so,” Harry answered. 

A shadow passed over Mr. Hecker’s face. 
Mr. MacMackin leaned forward. 

“Let’s get this straightened out, Dale. You 
say you are not going to become a member. 
Yet you have been proposed ” 

“I did not ask to join,” Harry interrupted. 
“Billings ” 

“Who was that?” Mr. MacMackin broke 
in sharply. 

“Billings, sir. The man we had in the 
broadcloth stock. He is now a salesman for 
Prince, Henderson & Prince. I met him in a 
restaurant. Later he telephoned me and 
wanted me to take dinner with him. I did so. 
He wanted me to join his club. I declined. I 
said I thought I shouldn’t like it. He said I 
couldn’t tell until I saw the club, and insisted 
39 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

that I go for a visit. I did not see how I could 
very well refuse to look at the place, so I 
went along.” 

“Did Billings say what kind of club it was?” 

“He said it was a club of young gentlemen.” 

“Ah!” Mr. MacMackin’s smile was sar- 
castic. “What do you think of it, Dale?” 

Harry stared at the floor. “I should rather 
not say, sir.” 

Mr. Hecker’s lips twitched. 

“Very well,” Mr. MacMackin said briskly, 
“I won’t press you. Will you tell me, though, 
when you decided not to join?” 

“The moment I saw it, sir.” 

“Why?” 

Harry hesitated a long time. He did not 
carry tales about what he had seen, and yet he 
thought that his superior was entitled to a 
truthful answer. 

“I did not think,” he said at last, “that I 
would receive any benefit from such associa- 
tions.” 


40 


GOOD ADVICE 

“Good boy!” said Mr. Hecker under his 
breath. 

It seemed that all the starch and stiffness left 
the little office. Mr. MacMackin unbent and 
smiled genially. 

“Dale,” he said, “it does me good to hear 
that answer. You had me worried. I have 
seen many a young man go wrong because 
he didn’t know the danger of the first false 
step. 

“I understand why you did not tell me what 
you saw. However, I know the Daylight 
Club. It has a mighty poor reputation. And 
now, Dale, if you will permit me, I’m going 
to lecture. 

“Steer clear of places like the Daylight 
Club. They are a great temptation to many 
young men doing your kind of work. To a con- 
siderable extent your time is your own. You 
do not have to punch a time clock. You are 
away from the office with no one to watch you 
or report on what you do. If, by eleven 
4 1 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

o’clock in the morning you have made quite a 
good sale, you can loaf the rest of the day if 
you want to. That is the first mistake. 

“No man can sit around and do nothing. 
He must do something. And if he lays down 
on his job, he must do something else. He 
looks for amusement. He has idle time. He 
meets other young men who want to loaf. 
Sooner or later he finds himself in some sort 
of lounging place, the Daylight Club, for 
instance. He finds young men consuming 

great numbers of cigarettes How many 

of the men in that club were smoking cigar- 
ettes, Dale?” 

“All of them, sir.” 

“I thought so. With many young men, idle- 
ness and cigarettes seem to go hand in hand. 
Well, let’s get back to this young man I had 
in mind. He drifts into one of these clubs. 
But even there he soon gets tired of just sitting 
around. He wants to do something, so nat- 
urally he does what the others are doing. He 
42 


GOOD ADVICE 


begins to play cards for money. He starts to 
shoot pool for money. Next he starts to take 
a drink. You can guess the rest of the story, 
Dale.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Harry; and then he added 
from the depths of his heart: “I want none 
of it in mine.” 

The remark was so slangy and so pert that 
Harry was sorry he had made it. But Mr. 
MacMackin gave him a rousing slap between 
the shoulders. 

“Stick to that, Dale,” he said, “and you’ll 
be all right.” 

Harry went back to his desk. He felt 
mighty good. He had been asked to explain 
and he had explained, and his word had not 
been doubted. 

His telephone rang. He took down the re- 
ceiver. “Hello!” he called. 

“This Dale?” came a voice. 

“Yes.” 

“Well, for the love of Mike, have I found 

43 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

you at last? Where have you been keeping 
yourself? This is Billings.” 

“I’ve been busy,” Harry said. 

“You must have been. I’ve got your appli- 
cation all ready, but I can’t put it in until 
you sign it. Are you going to be at home 
tonight?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. I’ll bring the application around, 
old man, and you can sign it there.” 

“You needn’t bring the application,” Harry 
said distinctly. 

“No? Why not?” 

“I’m not going to join.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Look here, old man,” Billings protested, 
“this is a bad throw-down. My friends like 
you. When I tell them you won’t sign they’ll 
think you’re cutting me dead. Be a sport now. 
You don’t want to make me look cheap among 
my friends, do you?” 

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. 

44 


GOOD ADVICE 

“You’re sorry you said you wouldn’t sign? 
Well, that’s better.” 

“No,” said Harry; “I’m sorry it will hurt 
you among your friends. I’ve made up my 
mind not to join.” 

There was another moment of silence. Then 
Harry heard a telephone receiver snapped up 
as though the young man at the other end was 
very, very angry. 


CHAPTER IV 


TRICKERY 



T home that night Harry related the 


JTjL story of what had happened, keeping 
back only what Mr. MacMackin had said 
about his future. He thought it would sound 
like boasting if he told of that. 

Mr. Dale listened to the tale with a smile 
on his face. “I thought you’d hear about it 
sooner or later,” he said. “Mr. MacMackin 
isn’t the kind to let a thing like that pass. And 
how about Billings? Have you heard from 
him?” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered. “He tele- 
phoned today. I told him that I wouldn’t 
join.” 

“Did he seem put out?” 

“Somewhat.” Harry looked thoughtful. 


TRICKERY 


< 

“I’ve been keeping out of his way of late, but 
I suppose I’ll meet him sooner or later.” 

“Then why dodge?” his father asked. “You 
fear the meeting will be unpleasant?” 

Harry nodded. 

“Then meet him and get it over with. It 
has to come sooner or later.” 

As a result of this talk Harry went to work 
the following Monday morning resolved to 
go about as though he and Billings had never 
come together. He took dinner that day at 
Connie’s, but Billings did not appear. Nor 
did Harry meet him in the streets of the manu- 
facturing district. Thus several days passed, 
and then Billings again made use of the tele- 
phone. 

“Hello, old man,” he said genially. His 
resentment appeared to have vanished. 
“Busy?” 

Harry had made one mistake of this kind, 
and did not propose to make another. 

“Pretty busy,” he said. 

47 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Well, how about taking dinner with me? 
You can spare that much time.” 

“Not today,” Harry answered. He was re- 
solved to accept no more of Billings’s hospi- 
tality. 

“Tomorrow then.” 

“I’ll be uptown tomorrow.” 

“How about Thursday?” 

“Can’t. Mr. MacMackin has some new 
goods coming in that day and is holding a 
salesmen’s meeting.” 

“All right,” said Billings. “I guess you 
don’t want to eat with me. So long.” 

“Good-by,” said Harry. He left the tele- 
phone with an air of satisfaction. He thought 
that Billings would not bother him with din- 
ner invitations again. 

He had told the truth about Thursday. A 
big shipment of goods was due from the 
Whitelake Mills. This was a new mill and its 
product was a new brand, Beveda cloth. 

Thursday morning Tommy Lee, the porter, 

48 


TRICKERY 

wheeled the first case of Beveda cloth into the 
department. The cloth was taken from its 
packing and set upon a table. 

“Cut samples,” Mr. MacMackin ordered 
the salesmen. “Study it. We’ll get together 
about three o’clock.” 

Harry cut a sample. Some of the salesmen, 
veterans like Mr. Hecker, examined the cloth 
under a magnifying glass. They also tested 
it to see if the color was fast. Harry bor- 
rowed a glass and examined his piece. The 
cloth, he could see, was strongly woven. Mr. 
Claxton dug him in the ribs. 

“Well, student,” he asked, “got its pedi- 
gree?” 

Harry smiled ruefully. “I guess I could 
examine it for hours and not learn much. I 
haven’t progressed that far.” 

“Waste of time,” Mr. Claxton said lightly. 
“Little Mac will tell us all we need know 
about the cloth.” Little Mac was the depart- 
ment nickname for Mr. MacMackin, but no 
49 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

salesman was rash enough to use the name in 
his presence. 

“But I’d like to find out for myself,” Harry 
said. “This thing of depending on somebody 
else ” 

Mr. Claxton chuckled. “There you go, 
preaching. Watch your Uncle Dudley. I’ll 
sell as much of that cloth as the next man.” 

At three o’clock there was so much trade 
going on in the department that the meeting 
was put off until four. At that hour the sales- 
men gathered up front with the department 
head. 

“This is our first big shipment from the 
Whitelake Mills,” Mr. MacMackin said. 
“What do you think of the cloth?” 

Harry kept silent and listened. He heard 
the older men give their ideas of the amount 
of wool, the amount of cotton, the strength 
of the weave, appearance and color. 

“What would you say as to price?” Mr. 
MacMackin asked. 


50 



“‘Well, student,’ he asked, ‘got its pedigree?’” 


: ■■ 






TRICKERY 


There were a dozen guesses. Finally the 
department head told them that the cloth 
could be sold for a nice profit for twenty-eight 
cents a yard. 

Even Harry knew that twenty-eight cents a 
yard was a cheap figure. While the salesmen 
talked excitedly, he tried to think which of his 
customers would be interested in this bargain. 
Then he heard Mr. MacMackin explaining, 
and he brought back his wandering thoughts. 

“This mill has succeeded in making its own 
dyes, which accounts for the cheapness of the 
product. I have taken two hundred cases. 
You need not fear to take orders for any quan- 
tity.” 

That afternoon Harry cut a generous piece 
of each color. Tomorrow he would start out 
to sell what he could. 

On his way home that evening he met Bill- 
ings. He thought that he would be the target 
for many reproaches, but Billings, instead, 
seemed to be in rare good humor. 

5i 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Just as well you couldn’t accept that invi- 
tation,” he said. “I’ve been working pretty 
hard. We’ve got something good, and I’ve 
been pushing it hard.” 

“I thought you didn’t work after early 
afternoon,” Harry said. 

“Oh, this is different,” Billings answered 
calmly. “This is a killing. Next week I’ll 
run down to one of the beaches and take things 
easy for awhile.” 

“That’s the time to keep going,” Harry ob- 
served, “when things are running right.” 

“Nix!” Billings waved his cane. “Give 
me my rest. I suppose you haven’t changed 
your mind about the Daylight Club?” 

“No.” 

“Well, everybody to his own taste, though 
I don’t know where your taste lies. I guess 
you don’t care for the society of gentlemen. 
Here’s my car.” 

Billings boarded a trolley and rode away. 

Harry was not displeased that the interview 
52 


TRICKERY 

had taken place. Billings and the Daylight 
Club were now off his mind. 

Early next morning he started forth to sell 
Beveda cloth. He had his day all mapped 
out, and was resolved that there would be no 
aimless hit-or-miss about his campaign. He 
knew just what firms he was going to visit. 

At the first place a man raised his hands and 
laughingly pushed him away. 

“Nothing doing, Dale. If I buy any more 
new stuff I’ll be bankrupt.” 

“But you haven’t seen this,” Harry pro- 
tested. 

“Don’t want to see it.” 

“But ” 

“Come back next month. Give me a chance 
to get some orders on what I have.” 

“Next month?” Harry demanded. “You 
may not be able to get this next month.” 

The man was impressed. “Is it as good as 
that? I’ll give you three minutes. Now, what 
is it?” 


53 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Harry showed his samples. 

“Well,” he was asked, “how much?” 

“Twenty-eight cents.” 

Half an hour later he departed with an 
order for three hundred yards. 

At the second place, the manufacturer or- 
dered one bolt for samples on Harry’s promise 
that later orders would be filled. 

So it went all morning. Almost every place 
he showed the goods he took an order. Some 
were fairly large, some were small, some were 
medium. When the noon whistles sounded, 
he had disposed of more than three hundred 
dollars’ worth of Beveda cloth. He resolved 
to eat and then continue his work. 

He walked to Connie’s. He had learned 
that here was a restaurant that did not serve 
good food one day and inferior food another. 
He gave his order; and while the waiter was 
notifying the kitchen force, he looked over his 
list and arranged his afternoon route. 

He would go to the Economy Skirt Com- 

54 


TRICKERY 


pany, of which Burke & Snyder were the pro- 
prietors. Last winter he had brought them a 
bargain in blue cloth for girls’ middy blouses. 
As a result they had reaped a financial har- 
vest. Harry numbered them among his 
staunchest manufacturing friends. 

“They’re always willing to jump at a good 
thing,” he reflected. “I shouldn’t be surprised 
if they took a thousand yards of this.” 

The waiter brought his order. He laid his 
samples to one side of the table. Then he 
began to eat with the appetite of a young man 
who has been healthily busy all morning. 

All at once he had an idea that Billings had 
entered the restaurant. He looked up. 
Prince, Henderson & Prince’s sporty salesman 
was coming down the aisle formed by tables. 

“Hello, Dale,” he said. “Being good to 
your stomach? What are you eating? Is it 
all right?” 

Harry said it was excellent. 

“I guess I’ll have that, but I want some 

55 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

oysters and soup with it. A gentleman should 
dine well. Mind if I sit here, Dale?” 

“Not a bit.” 

Billings drew out a chair on the other side 
of the table. As he sat down he saw the 
samples. 

“What’s that?” he demanded. 

“Beveda cloth,” said Harry. “I guess we’re 
the only firm in the city selling it now. 
It’s the product of a new mill. All the 
cloth houses will be handling it after a 
while.” 

Billings was greatly interested. “So you’re 
the only house in the city handling it, eh?” 

“I imagine so.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the product of a new mill. 
You know the game. A new mill tries to 
break in. It finds a mill agent, and the agent 
tries to induce wholesalers or jobbers to put 
it in stock, just the same as you and I try to 
sell our goods to manufacturers. A new mill 
56 


TRICKERY 


has to buck the old mills, and a new cloth has 
to buck the cloths that have already found the 
market. That’s the reason I think we’re the 
only people handling it now. A new cloth 
doesn’t often make a hit with two wholesalers 
in the same city at once. But your house and 
the rest of them will be handling it after a 
while.” 

“Will they?” Billings seemed amused. 
“Why?” 

“It’s a seller.” 

“Been getting orders with it, eh?” 

“It sells almost on sight,” Harry said 
earnestly. 

Billings had finished his oysters. “I sup- 
pose you’re making hay while the sun shines?” 
he asked. 

Harry nodded. “I’ll be working all after- 
noon.” 

Billings’s eyes became thoughtful. “The 
Economy Skirt Company ought to jump at 
that.” 


57 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“That’s how I feel about it,” Harry told 
him. 

“Going there this afternoon?” 

“Yes.” 

Billings had almost finished his soup. He 
called the waiter. 

“I guess this will be all. I’m not so hungry 
as I thought. Check, please.” He took his 
hat and cane. “See you later, Dale.” 

“So long,” said Harry. He stared after 
Billings with a puzzled frown on his face. 
Why had this leisurely young man gone 
off in such a hurry? It was not a bit like 
him. 

However, there were other things to think of 
besides Billings. Harry once more went over 
his afternoon list. Some of his customers 
wanted their orders of Beveda cloth shipped 
that afternoon. He went to a telephone, 
called the cloth department, and dictated the 
orders to Dowd, one of the stock clerks of the' 
cloth department. 


58 


TRICKERY 


“Rush those, Dowd, will you?” he asked. 

“I’ll have them downstairs in half an hour,” 
Dowd promised. “Doing much with that 
line?” 

“It’s going great,” said Harry. 

Nor was there any change that afternoon. 
Long before three o’clock Harry had placed 
four more orders. At the last place the manu- 
facturer took but one minute after he saw the 
goods and heard the price. 

“Future delivery?” he asked. 

“Deliveries at once,” Harry answered. “We 
have the goods in stock.” 

“I want a bolt this afternoon. Can I get 
it if I send down one of my men? I want to 
rush sample garments to my salesmen tomor- 
row night.” 

“You can,” said Harry. He telephoned to 
Dowd to have the cloth ready. 

“Bully boy,” said Dowd. “Mr. Hecker just 
sold ten cases.” 

Harry whistled. Ten cases! Mackerel! 

59 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Beveda cloth had surely hit the market 
hard. 

At three o’clock he came to the Economy 
Skirt Company. Here he hoped to place his 
best order of the day. He would have come 
during the morning, but he knew from ex- 
perience that here were two business men, 
Burke and Snyder, who liked to spend the 
morning getting the wheels of their plant run- 
ning smoothly. The afternoon was the best 
time to see them to sell goods. 

Mr. Snyder was out. Mr. Burke was busy. 
Harry sat down and waited. 

Fifteen minutes later a clerk led him into 
the room where Mr. Burke always looked at 
samples. The senior partner came forward 
with outstretched hand. 

“Hello, Dale. How’s business?” 

“Fine,” Harry answered. “I have some- 
thing here I want to show you, Mr. Burke.” 

“Something good?” 

Harry handed the manufacturer his sam- 
60 


TRICKERY 


pies. The man looked at them earnestly. 

“Beveda cloth?” he asked. 

Harry was surprised. “What do you know 
about Beveda cloth?” 

“I’ve bought some.” 

Harry dropped into a chair. “You’re not 
fooling me?” 

“Not a bit of it, Dale. Why?” 

“I thought I was coming in here with some- 
thing new.” 

Mr. Burke shook his head. “No; I’ve al- 
ready bought. I’m sorry, Dale. If you had 
come around earlier ” 

“What house sold you?” Harry interrupted. 

“Prince, Henderson & Prince.” 

“What salesman?” 

“A young fellow named Billings.” 

Harry stiffened. So that was the reason 
why Billings had left so hurriedly. Then the 
thought came to him that perhaps he was 
doing Billings an injustice. Perhaps Billings 
had made the sale several days ago. 

61 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Mr. Burke,” Harry said, “do you mind 
telling me when you placed your order?” 
“Not more than an hour ago. Why?” 

“Oh, nothing.” Harry tried to smile and 
failed. “I guess I got here an hour late.” 


CHAPTER V 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 

W HEN Harry, after leaving the Econ- 
omy Skirt Company, came down to 
the street, he stood there for a long time with 
his samples on his arm. His blood ran hot 
with anger. He felt all the wild impulses of 
a young man who has been shamefully tricked. 

He remembered what Billings had told him 
the night they had met, that he was making a 
killing and was working hard. Billings had 
been making his killing with this same Beveda 
cloth. The Whitelake Mills had succeeded 
in getting their product not only into the A. R. 
Sheppard Company, but also into the whole- 
sale cloth house of Prince, Henderson & 
Prince. 

His mind went back to the scene in the 

63 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

restaurant. Billings had spied his samples. 
He recalled that Billings had shown surprise. 
And then Billings had asked questions, and 

he What had he done? 

“I answered him like a simple-minded 
fool,” Harry thought bitterly. “He knew I 
sell quite a bit to the Economy Skirt Company. 
He asked me was I going there. I told him 
I was. Then he cleared out. I’ll bet he 
went to Burke as soon as he left the restau- 
rant.” 

And at that thought Harry’s blood boiled 
all the hotter. Billings had used him for a 
good thing. He had been tricked, and 
cheated, and made into a laughing stock. 
Probably Billings would go to the Daylight 
Club and tell the happening as a great joke, 
a fine adventure. 

Harry did not care two pins what the mem- 
bers of the Daylight Club might think of him. 
But he did have all a young man’s distaste for 
ridicule. The thought that Billings might 
64 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


boast of having tricked him did not make him 
any calmer. 

“I’ll get square,” he vowed. “I’ll put some- 
thing over on him if it takes me a year.” 

He had a mind to go back to the store. 
That, though, would seem like quitting. He 
tried to work. But his attempt at salesman- 
ship at the next place was so weak and wobbly, 
that he quit in disgust. Going at the job the 
way he felt at present was simply spoiling a 
good thing. He walked back to the store. 

There he made out his shipping tickets, and 
on the back of each ticket he recorded the 
order. Mr. Hecker came over to his desk. 

“Been pushing Beveda cloth?” he asked. 

Harry held up his stock of orders. 

Mr. Hecker smiled. “That’s the way to go 
at it. Strike while the iron is hot.” 

“We’re not the only firm handling Beveda,” 
Harry said. 

“No?” Mr. Hecker was surprised. “Who 
else has it?” 


65 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Prince, Henderson & Prince.” 

“How do you know?” 

Harry hesitated. “One of their salesmen 
beat me to the Economy Skirt Company,” he 
said. He did not care to explain how he had 
been fooled. 

Mr. Hecker went off to Mr. MacMackin’s 
office. Presently he came back to Harry’s 
desk. 

“You don’t know what price they’re asking, 
do you?” 

“No, sir.” 

“This is rather serious,” Mr. Hecker ex- 
plained. “We took those goods thinking we’d 
have the trade to ourselves. Of course, the 
mill has the right to sell where it can. But 
we wouldn’t have bought so heavily had we 
feared competition. We’ll have to find 
what price Prince, Henderson & Prince are 
asking.” 

“I imagine,” Harry said slowly, “they’re 
asking twenty-eight, the same as we are. Be- 
66 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


fore I came away from the Economy plant, 
Mr. Burke asked me our price. I told him. 
If Prince, Henderson & Prince were selling 
cheaper he would probably have told me we 
were too high. If we were cheaper he would 
have canceled and given the order to me. 
Instead, he merely said that he was sorry I 
hadn’t got there first.” 

“I think you’re right,” Mr. Hecker nodded. 
“Well, we’ll find out anyway.” 

Half an hour later Mr. Hecker was back 
again. 

“Twenty-eight is right,” he said. 

Before closing time Mr. MacMackin came 
to the salesmen’s desks. 

“Push Beveda hard,” he ordered. “We’re 
loaded up with two hundred dases, and Prince, 
Henderson & Prince also have the cloth. 
Watch their prices. If they cut, we’ll have 
to cut, too.” 

After Mr. MacMackin had gone, Mr. Clax- 
ton nudged Harry. 


6 7 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Cross your fingers and hope the price will 
come down to twenty-six cents,” he said. 

“Why?” 

“Because it will be easier to sell at twenty- 
six.” 

“But the department won’t be making its 
profit.” 

“Fiddlesticks,” said Mr. Claxton. “I’m 
thinking about my commissions. I’ll be able 
to sell more of that stuff at twenty-six than I 
can at twenty-eight.” 

Harry was sure that Mr. Claxton did not 
have the right idea. Their interests as sales- 
men were all tied up with the cloth depart- 
ment. If the department prospered, they pros- 
pered in turn. 

When Harry started for home, the thought 
of his lost sale at the Economy Skirt Company 
still rankled. After supper he told his par- 
ents what had happened. 

“Oh!” cried Mrs. Dale. “Isn’t that young 
man a villain!” 


68 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


“He is a young man of weak morals,” said 
Mr. Dale. “But I think that Harry is largely 
to blame.” 

“How?” Mrs. Dale demanded. 

“He talked too much. It is a habit that 
gets very many young men into trouble.” 

Harry nodded. “I felt that way myself.” 

“Mind,” Mr. Dale cautioned, “I do not ad- 
vocate secrecy and stealth. I believe in a man 
being out in the open. But at the same time 
I do not believe in him carrying his business 
on his sleeve. Harry knew that Billings sells 
cloth. Yet he told Billings his business in a 
very reckless way.” 

Harry nodded, but said nothing. 

“Take my business, for instance,” Mr. Dale 
went on. “If I find a prospect, a man who 
may take insurance, I do not go around tell- 
ing every insurance man I meet that Mr. So- 
and-so is interested in insurance. If I did 
that, they would all call on him and I might 
lose, just as Harry lost. But neither do I 
69 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

sneak around to see him, nor do I say harsh 
or mean things about any other insurance man. 
I play the game fair and square; I try to take 
advantage of no one. At the same time I do 
not throw open the door so that any person may 
take advantage of me.” 

Harry stared moodily at the floor. “Bil- 
lings needs a taking down,” he said. 

“Just what do you mean by that?” his father 
asked. 

“I mean that I’d like to get square.” 

“Revenge ; is that what you’re thinking of?” 

Harry flushed. “He needs a lesson,” he 
muttered. 

“I’m afraid you need a lesson, too,” Mr. 
Dale said quietly. “This thing of getting 
square is the cheapest feeling to which a man 
or a boy can give way. It spoils a person’s 
days and makes him unhappy. And the time 
that he gives to thinking about revenge could 
be better spent thinking about his business. 
Can’t you see that?” 


70 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


Harry was silent. 

“There is something mean about plotting 
to get square,” Mr. Dale went on. “Take my 
advice. Dig in and do your work. Forget 
Billings. What’s past is past. Anyway, you 
have been taught a lesson. You have learned 
that hereafter you must learn to control your 
tongue. To that extent the affair with Bil- 
lings has done you good.” 

“But the thought of his tricking me ” 

“Forget it,” said Mr. Dale. “He can’t trick 
you again, can he?” 

“I hope not.” 

“Then forget it. You cannot afford to waste 
time thinking about Billings.” 

Harry went to bed not at all sure that he 
wanted to forget it. However, a night’s sleep 
chased much of his resentment. He went to 
work that day resolved to push Beveda cloth 
as hard as he could. 

He had another good day, even though he 
found that several of his customers had al- 
7i 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

ready purchased the cloth from Prince, Hen- 
derson & Prince. At noon he had dinner at 
Connie’s. Billings did not appear. 

Thus several days passed. Billings seemed 
to have dropped completely from sight, and 
Harry had an idea that he might have made 
good his boast and have gone off to the sea- 
shore. 

By this time Harry’s resentment had prac- 
tically passed away. He met Arnold Keith on 
the street, and Keith gave him a smile that 
said, “Oh! but you’re easy.” Harry, however, 
did not lose his temper. He had made up his 
mind to pay no attention to what any member 
of the Daylight Club might think of him. 
Keith’s smile, though, proved that Billings 
had told the story as a good joke. 

By this time it was apparent that Beveda 
cloth was a success. Every department sales- 
man had done a fair share of business. Even 
Mr. Claxton, for all his wishing that the price 
would drop, had made some large sales. 

72 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


“The trouble is,” he confided to Harry, 
“that the mills will probably jack up the price 
when they find they have the market. Then 
sales will probably drop.” 

Harry told this to Mr. Hecker. The vet- 
eran salesman smiled. 

“Did it ever strike you that Mr. MacMackin 
knew his business?” he asked. 

Harry’s face grew red. 

“Come!” said Mr. Hecker. “I’m not chid- 
ing you nor finding fault. But when we put in 
this cloth we took two hundred cases. That 
was a pretty stiff order to hand to a new mill 
on a new brand. But Mr. MacMackin had 
faith in the goods and in the price. One rea- 
son why he took two hundred cases was this: 
he has the privilege of buying five hundred 
more at the same price.” 

“Oh!” Harry looked thoughtful. “I won- 
der if Prince, Henderson & Prince have that 
kind of agreement with the mill.” 

“Probably not,” Mr. Hecker told him. “I 

73 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

don’t suppose they took more than fifty cases 
at most.” 

“Well, then,” said Harry, “sooner or later 
we ought to have the local market to our- 
selves.” 

“Sooner or later,” Mr. Hecker smiled, “we 
ought to be able to undersell them all one 
cent a yard and still take our profit.” 

Harry went back to his desk with a vast 
respect for the head of his department. Mr. 
MacMackin had had faith in his judgment. 
He had had the courage to buy heavily when 
the price was low. And he had looked far 
enough ahead to guard the future. 

“Seen anything of Billings?” Mr. Dale 
asked one night. 

Harry said he had not. 

“Still thinking of getting square?” 

“No — not now.” 

“Good! It isn’t getting square that counts, 
it’s being square.” 

However, Harry knew that sooner or later 

74 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


he would see Billings. They met, next day, at 
Connie’s. 

When Harry reached the restaurant, Bil- 
lings was eating. 

“Hello, Dale,” he called. “Here’s a seat.” 

Harry walked past the table. He found a 
place farther from the door. He gave his or- 
der and had scarcely started to eat when Bil- 
lings arose and sauntered toward him. 

“What’s the matter, Dale?” 

“Nothing much,” Harry answered calmly. 

“You cut me a minute ago.” 

“Did I?” Harry calmly broke off a piece 
of bread and buttered it. 

“You did.” Billings was losing his air of 
ease. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t like tricksters,” said Harry. 

“Sore, eh?” Billings demanded. “About 
that Economy Skirt deal?” 

Harry did not take the trouble to answer. 

“Now look here.” Billings sat down. 
“Have some sense. I was selling that line and 
75 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

you were selling it. You told me you were 
going to a place that I intended to visit that 
afternoon. What a fool I would have been to 
have let you beat me to it.” 

“You tricked me,” said Harry. “You knew 
I thought I had an exclusive on Beveda.” 

“I didn’t give you that thought, did I?” 

“No; but you didn’t take the trouble to tell 
me the truth.” 

“I didn’t tell you anything.” 

“That’s true. You pumped me ” 

“And like a little fool,” said Billings, “you 
told me all I wanted to know. You can’t 
blame me if you haven’t brains enough.” He 
lighted a cigarette with an air of having said 
the final word. 

Harry became angry. “I’m not going to 
argue with you,” he said rapidly. “It was 
trickery ” 

“It was salesmanship,” Billings interrupted. 
“It isn’t hustle that wins. It’s brains. I had 
the brains and you hadn’t. You opened your 
76 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


mouth and talked like a chump ; I kept quiet 
and did the business.” 

His manner was so superior and so insolent 
that Harry’s old resentment came back. 

“It was trickery,” he said. “It was sharp 
practice. You can call it what you will, but it 
wasn’t square. It was a dirty trick. I don’t 
want to have any more to do with you. And 
as I want to eat my dinner in peace, I must 
ask you to leave this table.” 

By this time Billings was angry, too. 
“You’re a little squirt,” he said, “and you’ll 
never make a salesman in a thousand years. 
It’s a good thing I didn’t put up your name at 
the club. The fellows would have black- 
balled you so hard it would have been a dis- 
grace. And I’ll tell you another thing. I’m 
after the Economy people, and I’ll have all 
their cloth trade before I’m through.” 

The quarrel rekindled all Harry’s desire to 
get square. If Billings had tried to explain, or 
had tried to smooth things over, matters would 
77 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

not have been so bad. But Billings had 
adopted an air of superiority and had rubbed 
the raw spot. And now that the raw spot was 
aching again, Harry’s old thoughts returned. 

The threat to take the cloth trade of the 
Economy Skirt Company had also hit him 
hard. He suspected that Billings would go 
out of his way to do business there. And as 
the Economy was Harry’s best account, this 
was striking at him where it hurt. Competi- 
tion in the ordinary course of business was to 
be expected. He rather looked for it. But 
having a rival trying to undermine you just 
out of ill-will was another thing entirely. 

Harry quite forgot that he was looking for 
a way by which he could undermine Billings. 

That afternoon, while he sat at his desk, 
checking up his trade, Mr. Claxton leaned 
closer. 

“I saw a friend of yours today, Dale.” 

“A friend of mine?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, Billings. He was telling me about 

78 


THOUGHTS OF REVENGE 


that Beveda cloth deal. What are you going 
to do about it?” 

So Billings was now openly boasting. 
Harry’s face hardened. 

“I’m going to get back at him,” he said 
grimly. “I’m going to make him wish he had 
let me alone.” 

“Good boy.” Mr. Claxton patted his shoul- 
der. “That’s the only way to teach a fellow 
like Billings.” 

Harry thought so, too. His father’s advice 
was forgotten. He would find a way to turn a 
trick that would silence Billings’s boasting 
tongue. 


CHAPTER VI 


SQUARENESS PAYS 

H ARRY did not tell his father about his 
changed resolution. At first he had 
thought that he would relate what had hap- 
pened at the restaurant. He decided, how- 
ever, to keep silent. His father would ques- 
tion him, and sooner or later he would blurt 
out what he intended to do. His nature was 
so clean that he had never been able to prac- 
tice deceit. 

He did not doubt the logic of much of what 
his father had said. It was best to throw aside 
thoughts of revenge. It was best not to waste 
time on petty thoughts of getting square. But 
he reasoned that this logic applied only to the 
every-day run of men. Billings was not an 
every-day type. Billings was a fellow who 
80 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


would have to be taught, and the only way to 
teach him would be by the use of his own 
weapons. If he was outgeneraled and fooled, 
he might take a lesson to heart. In no other 
way, Harry thought, could he be impressed. 

“If I get one good chance at him,” the boy 
reflected, “I’ll make him sit up with a jump. 
Then he won’t be so anxious to turn a smart 
trick the next time.” 

So Harry kept a sharp lookout for a chance 
to put grease on Billings’s path. But the days 
passed and no way of upsetting the salesman 
from Prince, Henderson & Prince occurred 
to him. He began to suspect that there might 
never come a chance for him to — “to what?” 
said his conscience. To get square, said his 
thoughts. Harry flushed. So it wasn’t merely 
to teach Billings a lesson that he was keeping 
a sharp lookout. It was for the mean little 
purpose of getting square. 

“He deserves it,” Harry told himself reck- 
lessly, nor would he listen when unseen voices 
81 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

tried to whisper in his ears the advice his 
father had given. 

Meanwhile, Beveda cloth continued to sell. 
The whole market had awakened to the fact 
that here was a good fabric. Manufacturers 
who had ordered a few yards for samples, were 
now ordering by the bolt. The Economy Skirt 
Company had done well with the cloth. Once 
Harry went there and found the receiving 
clerk signing for two cases of the cloth from 
Prince, Henderson & Prince. His blood 
boiled at the thought that but for trickery 
these orders would be his. How many cases 
the skirt company would buy in the future he 
could not guess. 

It was but natural that he and Billings 
should meet. Several times they encountered 
each other at Connie’s, but they did not speak. 
Another of their meetings was in the sample 
room of the Economy Skirt Company. Harry 
came in while Billings was showing his 
wares. 

82 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


“Hello, Dale!” called Mr. Burke, the 
senior partner. “You know Billings, don’t 
you?” 

Harry said he did. An air of restraint was 
noticeable at once. Mr. Burke shifted the con- 
versation to other topics. After Billings had 
departed Harry showed what samples he had 
brought. 

“Rather clever fellow, Billings,” said Mr. 
Burke. 

Harry agreed that he was. 

“Pretty reliable chap, too.” 

Harry, pretending to be busy with his sam- 
ples, made believe that he had not heard. Mr. 
Burke pursed his lips thoughtfully. 

“Snyder,” he said to his partner that night, 
“keep your eye on Billings of Prince, Hender- 
son & Prince. I want to get a line on him. 
Sound him out. Get him talking about him- 
self.” 

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Snyder asked. 

“Probably nothing. He and Dale met this 

83 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

afternoon. There’s bad blood between them. 
When I remarked that Billings was reliable, 
Dale had nothing to say. Pretended he hadn’t 
heard me. Now, you and I know that Dale is 
square, so we’ll keep our eyes on Billings.” 

“All right,” said Mr. Snyder. “If he’s play- 
ing ’possum he’ll spill the beans sooner or 
later.” 

Harry, knowing nothing of this conversa- 
tion, went on his way nursing thoughts of bit- 
terness. 

About this time a shabby, seedy-looking man 
came into the cloth department and asked for 
Mr. Hecker. The salesman and his visitor 
walked off into an aisle. After the man was 
gone, Mr. Hecker and Harry found them- 
selves in the broadcloth stock with a few idle 
moments on their hands. 

“Did you see the man who came in for me a 
little while ago?” Mr. Hecker asked. 

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered. 

“Would you believe that only a few years 

84 


SQUARENESS PAYS 

ago he was well-to-do and had a prosperous 
business?” 

“That man?” Harry asked. It seemed that 
Mr. Hecker must be joking, for the visitor had 
looked as though the cares of the world had 
beaten him to the ground. 

“That man,” said Mr. Hecker. “He was in 
business with a partner. They were doing 
well. But he and his partner could not get 
along. They were continually quarreling. 
Finally the man who came here today decided 
on a dissolution of the partnership. 

“The firm dissolved. But the partner was 
tricky and without honor. By sharp practice 
he secured the best of the bargain. When the 
firm was split, this man found that he had 
been hoodwinked. It rankled. He vowed 
that he would make things hot for the man who 
had swindled him. 

“That was his mistake. All of us at some 
time or other are cheated or defrauded. It 
does us no good to nurse a grudge. Rather, 

85 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

we ought to prepare ourselves not to be caught 
napping again. But this man was not satis- 
fied to charge the matter up to experience. He 
vowed he would drive his former partner out 
of business. 

“You see, they had each opened a separate 
establishment in the same city. There was 
plenty of business for each. But this man was 
not content with that. He was not content to 
build up his trade and go ahead. He wanted 
his partner to go down. 

“That became his one thought. It was with 
him at all times. He followed his former 
partner’s advertising. He kept track of what 
wares his former partner displayed. When a 
salesman came to him with samples, he did 
not think what he could buy that would sell 
easiest in the market of his town. He always 
thought of what he could buy along the line 
of what his former partner had. He always 
wanted to undersell the man who had gotten 
the best of him. 


86 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


“What was the result? He did business, but 
it was a ruinous business. And the tricky part- 
ner was too tricky for him again. The partner 
said to himself, ‘He will go to the wall. I 
will let him set the pace. I will not cut prices 
as he does. And when he is through and his 
credit gone, I will step in and take all the 
trade.’ 

“Two years passed. Then the man who 
came here today found himself against the 
wall, and he awoke to the harm he was doing 
himself. He tried to get back on his feet. He 
put up his prices and tried to make the profit a 
business must make if it is to live. But now 
his former partner came in with cut prices. 
From doing a lot of business at a loss, my 
visitor of today did no business at all. Three 
months later his creditors closed him out.” 

There was an interval of silence. 

“Do you know why he came to me today?” 
Mr. Hecker asked. 

“No, sir.” 


87 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“He asked for the loan of fifty cents.” 

Harry shook his head. What a pity things 
had gone so completely to smash. 

“I think your visitor was a very foolish 
man,” he said. 

“Any man is foolish,” Mr. Hecker nodded, 
“who wastes time thinking of revenge. If a 
man were to injure me in a business deal, I 
shouldn’t waste time thinking about what he 
had done, but I would dig in and sell goods. 
No person can think of two things at once. 
If he’s thinking of revenge he can’t think of 
business. He lowers his efficiency.” 

Harry’s eyes were turned away. It had 
suddenly dawned on him that perhaps Mr. 
Hecker was telling him all this for a purpose. 
He looked up into the man’s face. 

“Is this a sermon?” he asked. 

Mr. Hecker gave the faintest smile. “That 
all depends.” 

“On what, sir?” 

“On whether what Mr. Claxton says is so.” 

88 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


Harry’s eyes turned away again. “Did Mr. 
Claxton say something about Billings and a 
deal in Beveda cloth?” 

“He did,” answered Mr. Hecker. His hand 
dropped to the boy’s shoulder. “Forget it, 
Harry. It doesn’t pay.” Then one of his cus- 
tomers came into the department and he hur- 
ried away. 

That talk made a deep impression on Harry. 
One moment he’d make up his mind to for- 
get all about Billings. The next moment 
he’d think how Billings had called him a 
fool in the restaurant and his anger would 
come to the surface. But all the time he tried 
to fight down the hot impulses that stirred 
him. 

Twice, during the next two days, he met 
Arnold Keith, Billings’s friend of the Day- 
light Club. Each time Keith gave him that 
same superior sort of smile. Harry tried hard 
to smother a feeling that he would like to 
punch Keith in the eye. 

89 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

He had intended saying nothing to his father 
about having still desired to get square with 
Billings. But that night, as they sat together 
in the little library at home, he blurted out 
his story of how he had met Billings in the 
restaurant, of how Billings had flayed him, of 
how Keith gave him that tantalizing smile, and 
of what Mr. Hecker had said. He thought 
that his father would scold him for not having 
stopped thinking of revenge. Instead, Mr. 
Dale said patiently: 

“Young men refuse to heed anything but 
experience. Until you find out for yourself, 
Harry, you will continue to let thoughts of 
Billings bother you. It’s a month, now, since 
that happened, is it not?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Has anybody fooled you during that time?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Your sales have been going ahead steadily, 
have they not?” 

“Yes, sir.” 


90 


SQUARENESS PAYS 

“Then why fret about something that is 
past? Don’t you see how useless it is?” 

“I’m beginning to now,” said Harry. 

His father smiled. “Then I guess your 
trouble is about over. And Harry, always re- 
member this: in the long run, only squareness 
pays.” 

Harry carried that thought to bed with him. 
That night he dreamed that Billings was head 
of the cloth department and that he had been 
put back in the broadcloth stock for having 
done something that was wrong. 

The busy season began to come on, and 
Harry soon had so much business to think 
about that there was no room for thoughts of 
anything else. He threw himself eagerly into 
his work. During the following week he 
opened three new accounts. Two of them 
were accepted by the credit department, but 
the third was declined. Mr. Hecker took oc- 
casion to give him a few words of good 
counsel. 


9i 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“You knew the history of that firm, didn’t 
you, Harry?” 

“I knew they had been in trouble two or 
three times,” Harry answered. 

“Then that was your signal to steer clear of 
them. There is too much good trade in the 
market to bother with the doubtful proposi- 
tions. Besides, that class of trade always gives 
you trouble. Goods are sent back, bills are 
disputed, damage claims are made. And 
often, just when you think you have landed a 
good order, the credit department refuses to 
pass the sale. It doesn’t pay, Dale, my 
boy.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Harry answered. 
“I’ll steer clear of that in the future.” 

“A good plan,” Mr. Hecker approved. 
“The trade of a hundred good firms is worth 
more to a salesman than the trade of one hun- 
dred and fifty firms, fifty of which are not 
trustworthy. Besides, selling to that class of 
trade gives a salesman a bad name, and the 
92 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


credit department begins to watch every ac- 
count he handles. Remember, we’re not work- 
ing altogether for commissions. We’re work- 
ing for the A. R. Sheppard Company.” 

That afternoon Harry called at the Econ- 
omy Skirt Company. Billings was there, and 
Harry soon left. When he returned to the 
cloth department, just before closing time, he 
was told that the Economy Skirt Company 
wanted him at once. 

He called them on the telephone. “Mr. 
Burke, please,” he said. 

After a moment he heard a crisp voice: 
“Hello.” 

“Mr. Burke?” Harry asked. 

“Yes.” 

“This is Dale.” 

“Oh! I’ve been trying to get you for an 
hour. How are you selling Beveda cloth?” 

“Same price — twenty-eight cents.” 

“Can you make immediate delivery?” 

“Yes, sir.” 


93 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Good. Send me five hundred red, five 
hundred navy blue. One thousand yards — 
Rush it. Good-by.” 

“Thank you,” said Harry. “Good-by.” 

He came away from the telephone in a daze. 
The Economy Skirt Company had been buy- 
ing Beveda cloth from Prince, Henderson & 
Prince. Why had they shifted? Had the 
other firm raised the price? 

Harry reported the transaction to Mr. Mac- 
Mackin. Next morning the department head 
told him that Prince, Henderson & Prince 
were still selling the cloth at twenty-eight 
cents. 

Harry shook his head helplessly. Why had 
the order come to him? Of course, he had 
once done the skirt company a good turn. But 
Mr. Burke was not the man to shift from a 
salesman who had introduced him to a fabric 
merely because he might like another sales- 
man better. Harry knew that he would always 
have a slight advantage with the skirt com- 
94 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


pany proprietors, but he also knew he would 
have to get there first to get it. 

Along toward noon he walked into the skirt 
company’s sample room. 

“I’m puzzled,” he said. 

Mr. Burke gave him a quizzical smile. 
“About that order for one thousand yards of 
Beveda cloth?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Mr. Burke drummed with his fingers on a 
sample table. “I’ll tell you something, Dale,” 
he said. “When Billings came in here with 
that cloth he told us they had exclusive terri- 
tory. An hour later you appeared with the 
same cloth. You didn’t say much, but you 
were mighty anxious to know which of Prince, 
Henderson & Prince’s men had sold us. That 
made me suspicious.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Then you and Billings met in here. I 
could see you were not friendly. That made 
me do a little more thinking.” 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Harry said nothing. 

“Yesterday,” Mr. Burke went on, “Billings 
came in here again. He was a bit talkative. 
Your name came up, and he said you were 
slow. I asked him how, and he said he’d tell 
me a big joke. He told me about meeting you 
in a restaurant, and of finding you were com- 
ing here with Beveda cloth, and of running 
around here and beating you to it. ‘Look 
here,’ I said, ‘you knew Dale was selling Be- 
veda cloth, didn’t you?’ ‘Sure,’ he acknowl- 
edged. ‘Then why did you tell us you were 
the only firm in the city selling it?’ Billings 
laughed and tried to pass it off. I said I 
wouldn’t place an order with him just then. 
He left. Then I telephoned to you.” 

Harry’s face had become thoughtful. 

“We have salesmen of our own on the road,” 
Mr. Burke said. “I wouldn’t want one of my 
men to be tricked that way, nor would I like 
to hear that one of my men had tricked a com- 
petitor. We believe in clean tactics. When 
96 


SQUARENESS PAYS 


we find a man who doesn’t play the game that 
way, we cut away from him. If he slips some- 
thing over on another salesman, tomorrow he 
might try to slip something over on us. That’s 
why you got the order, Dale.” 

Ten minutes later Harry found himself out 
in the street. He was thankful that he had 
found no way of evening things with Billings. 
For now he knew that what his father and Mr. 
Hecker said was true. Square dealing paid. 


CHAPTER VII 


SLANDER 


TT THEN Harry returned to the cloth de- 

▼ V partment that afternoon Mr. Hecker 
was not busy. The boy told him the story of 
what had happened at the skirt company. 

“Squareness pays,” said the salesman. 
“Aren’t you glad that you didn’t turn any 
mean tricks?” 

Harry said he was. 

“Reputation,” Mr. Hecker went on, “is the 
big thing in business. Every man has a repu- 
tation of some kind, good, bad or indifferent. 
It’s up to him at all times just what his repu- 
tation shall be. Yours must be pretty good 
else Mr. Burke would not have turned the 
order your way. See to it that you keep it 
good.” 


98 


SLANDER 


“I’ll try to,” said Harry. 

“And as for Billings,” Mr. Hecker went 
on, “he’ll keep up his tricky work, and it will 
get him into more trouble before he is 
through.” 

“I hope not,” said Harry. “I’d rather he 
played the game fair.” 

Mr. Hecker gave him a shrewd glance. “I 
thought you didn’t like Billings.” 

“I don’t,” said Harry. “He isn’t to be 
trusted, and I want nothing to do with him. 
But I wish him well. I hold no hard feelings 
— now.” 

That night, at supper, Harry told of his 
experiences of the day. 

“Think your old father knows something 
now?” Mr. Dale asked. 

“I never doubted your advice,” Harry an- 
swered. “I guess I must have had a mean 
streak and just wanted to get back at 
Billings.” 

Mrs. Dale smiled fondly at her son. “Mr. 

99 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Burke must like you to turn the order over to 
you,” she said. 

“It’s more than like,” said Mr. Dale. “It’s 
respect. Harry has attended to business. He’s 
been open and aboveboard. He’s winning a 
reputation as a clean young fellow.” 

“That’s what Mr. Hecker said,” Harry 
broke in. 

“What?” his father asked. 

“ ‘Reputation.’ Mr. Hecker told me mine 
is pretty good, and to see to it that I kept it 
that way.” 

“Mr. Hecker must be a fine type of man,” 
Mrs. Dale observed. 

“He is, mother,” Harry answered. “He has 
given me a lot of good advice.” 

“What he said about reputation is true,” 
Mr. Dale nodded. “Did you ever throw a 
pebble in water and see the little circle of 
waves grow wider and wider? That’s how it 
is with reputation. At first one man says 
you’re square, then another says it, then an- 


ioo 


SLANDER 


other. Soon all your business acquaintances 
are saying it. That’s your reputation. It 
spreads, and spreads, and spreads. If bad 
things are said of you, they spread just the 
same.” 

“Providing ” Harry began. 

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Dale answered. “Providing 
they are true, and providing the men who 
spread the bad tidings are to be believed.” 

Harry had an idea that sooner or later Bil- 
lings would learn that he had lost the Economy 
Skirt Company’s trade. He was sure, too, that 
Billings would at once try to stir up trouble. 
However, he did not worry about what the 
future might hold for him. If Billings wanted 
to be nasty, why that was up to Billings. Per- 
sonally Harry had no fear. 

Two days later Billings got him on the tele- 
phone. “I want to know what you’re trying 
to do,” he demanded. 

“About what?” Harry asked. 

“You know what. About the Economy 

IOI 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Skirt Company. What stories did you tell 
them about me?” 

“None.” 

“I don’t believe you. You went there sneak- 
ing and whining and you got my trade. I 
won’t stand for it. You hear me? I ” 

Harry hung up the receiver. He saw no 
reason to continue a discussion that could only 
lead to angry words. When he had lost out 
at the Economy Skirt Company, Billings had 
thought it a joke. Now, apparently, the boot 
was on the other foot and pinching badly. 

Besides, he was busy that day and had no 
time to listen to a flood of abuse. He had hit 
upon a new idea, new to him, at any rate, and 
was busy carrying it out. He had explained 
it to Mr. Hecker and Mr. Claxton. 

“It’s this way,” he said. “A letter comes in 
from a customer ordering goods. You fill the 
order. He gets the material in from twenty- 
four to thirty-six hours if he’s in the city. If 
he’s out of town, it takes longer. 


102 


SLANDER 


“Now, my idea is this : As soon as an order 
is filled, drop that customer a note telling him 
that his order has been taken care of, telling 
him how many yards have been shipped and 
the price. He knows just what’s coming to 
him long before the delivery wagon arrives. 
He knows the price. In that way disputes are 
avoided.” 

“What good does it do him to know at two 
o’clock that his goods are on the way if he’ll 
get them at six o’clock, anyway?” Mr. Hecker 
asked. 

“Lots of times it won’t do him any good,” 
Harry answered. “Then comes a time when 
he’s anxious to know, and the letter’s there. 
Suppose I receive a letter at four o’clock in 
the afternoon saying that a customer wants a 
bolt of Beveda cloth. I fill the order, send it 
to the entry department, and drop him a line. 
When he reaches his shop in the morning there 
is my letter telling him his stuff is on the way. 
What does he think about it?” 


103 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“He thinks that you’re a bright and up-to- 
the minute salesman,” Mr. Hecker said with 
a smile. 

Harry blushed. “I’m serious, Mr. Hecker.” 

“So am I,” said the man. “It’s a good play. 
It makes a customer feel that we’re interested 
in him.” 

So, having had Mr. Hecker’s approval, 
Harry was now busy writing six letters to cus- 
tomers whose orders had come in that after- 
noon. 

Mr. Claxton had not been impressed by 
Harry’s idea. He came over and picked up 
one of the letters. 

“Caesar!” he chuckled. “What have we 
here, Harry? This customer has ordered only 
six yards?” 

“Yes, sir. It’s a new firm. Not much 
money.” 

“And you waste time dropping them a letter 
on such an order?” 

“Why not?” Harry asked. “They may have 
104 


SLANDER 


a ten-thousand-dollar line of credit five years 
from now.” 

“Oh, you dreamer!” Mr. Claxton teased. 
“Your idea is all right, Harry. I’ll write a 
letter myself if the order is big enough. But 
on a six-yard cut Good night!” 

Mr. Claxton told the story all over the de- 
partment. Finally the tale reached Mr. Mac- 
Mackin. He came to Harry’s desk. 

“Did you write a letter to a customer who 
ordered six yards of cloth?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Have you mailed it?” 

“No, sir.” 

“May I have it? Just for half-an-hour?” 

Harry surrendered his letter. What could 
Mr. MacMackin want with it? Would the 
department head read him a lecture about 
wasting time on little things? 

Mr. MacMackin walked away with the 
note. Twenty minutes later he came back 
with it. 

105 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Thank you, Dale,” he said. That was all. 

Harry could not make head nor tail of what 
Mr. MacMackin’s interest in the letter could 
be. However, as Mr. MacMackin had not 
chided him, there couldn’t be anything of 
which the department head disapproved. He 
forgot the matter for the moment in the press 
of his work. 

Toward closing time Mr. Claxton met him 
in one of the department aisles. 

“Don’t go murdering me, Dale,” the sales- 
man pleaded. “I didn’t think it would get 
you into trouble.” 

“That what would get me into trouble?” 
Harry asked. 

“Telling about that letter — that six-yard let- 
ter. I didn’t think Little Mac would take it 
up.” 

“Oh!” Harry spoke quickly. “Do you 
know why he took the letter?” 

Mr. Claxton gave him a blank look. “Do I 
know why? Don’t you? Didn’t he blow you 
106 


\ 


SLANDER 


up about wasting time on so small a matter?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“He didn’t? What did he say?” 

“He asked me could he take the letter. He 
brought it back and said ‘Thank you.’ ” 

Mr. Claxton whistled. “That beats me. I 
thought he’d blow you higher than a kite when 
I saw him go to your desk. I’m glad he 
didn’t.” The salesman chuckled. “Maybe 
he’s entered that letter for the A. R. Sheppard 
Prize.” 

“You’re fooling me,” said Harry. 

The A. R. Sheppard Prize was a Christmas 
gift of one hundred dollars to the man or boy 
who originated the best plan each year in the 
interests of the House. A department head 
who thought one of his men had done some- 
thing noteworthy, always brought the matter 
to the attention of the firm. It was an honor 
to win the prize — an honor to the individual, 
an honor to the department in which he 
worked. 


107 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Harry went back to his desk smiling broad- 
ly. He knew that Mr. Claxton had been pok- 
ing fun at him. Not for a moment did he 
think that his little letter would create com- 
ment. 

But several days later he came to the store 
to find himself famous. Every salesman had 
been given a circular direct from the office of 
Mr. Sheppard. Across the top ran a line : 

WHAT HAVE YOU INVESTED IN GOOD 
WILL? 

And under it this line: 

HERE IS A LETTER SENT OUT BY ONE OF 
OUR MEN 

After that came a perfect copy of the letter 
that Harry had written acknowledging the re- 
ceipt of the order for six yards of cloth. Even 
his signature was there. And under this was 
another line: 

DO YOU WRITE YOUR TRADE? 

108 


SLANDER 


Harry felt a flood of embarrassment. He 
wished the letter had not been used. It made 
him conspicuous, and he preferred to stay in 
the background. Mr. Claxton came over to 
his desk and tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Ho !” he chuckled. “What did I say about 
the A. R. Sheppard Prize?” 

“You’re fooling again,” Harry protested. 

“I was a few days ago,” Mr. Claxton ad- 
mitted, “but I’m serious now.” 

“Well,” Harry answered, “I’m not. Any- 
body can write a little ‘Thank you’ letter.” 

“Does everybody, though?” Mr. Claxton 
asked. “I tell you, young fellow, you’ve given 
me something to think about.” 

For all that, Harry refused to take talk of 
the Sheppard Prize seriously. It was a long, 
long way to Christmas. What interested him 
most was how a facsimile of his letter came to 
be on that circular. 

Mr. Hecker told him. “Mr. MacMackin 
took it upstairs and had it photographed,” he 
109 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

said. “There’s a mighty good idea behind that 
letter. I admit I’ve been asleep, too. Suppose 
we all wrote letters like that. Take a man out 
West who writes me to ship him something by 
fast freight. Perhaps its seven or eight days 
before the goods arrive. But if he gets a let- 
ter from me within two days, he knows that 
his order has been received and has been taken 
care of. If we all kept in touch with our trade 
that way, the House of Sheppard would 
have a reputation from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific.” 

“Good!” said Harry. “That would mean 
business and every salesman would get his 
share of it.” 

Mr. Hecker smiled quietly. Here was a 
boy who never said “I,” “my” or “me.” It was 
always “us,” or “we” or “the salesmen.” 

Later, as Harry started out with some sam- 
ples under his arm, Mr. MacMackin stopped 
him. 

“Dale,” he said crisply, “I’m glad to see yo 


no 


SLANDER 


are still working with your head. Keep it up. 
That’s what wins.” 

Harry canvassed his trade that morning 
feeling that this was indeed one good old 
world. At noon he went to Connie’s for din- 
ner. There, for the first time in weeks, he 
came face to face with Billings. 

Billings looked as though he had not had 
enough sleep the night before. He was in 
rather an ugly mood, and he wanted to bring 
up the question of the Economy Skirt Com- 
pany. Harry, however, would have none of 
him. Billings began to raise his voice, and 
other diners began to look their way. 

“If you don’t go away from me,” Harry said 
quietly, “I’ll ask one of the waiters to take 
you away.” 

“You couldn’t do it,” Billings blustered. 

Harry did not answer. Billings prepared to 
depart. “I’ll queer you all over this distiict,” 
he threatened. 

Just what Billings would do Harry did not 


iii 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

know, nor did he care. He ate his dinner and 
went his way. For several days he forgot that 
such a person as Billings lived. Then Mr. 
Claxton motioned to him as he came in late 
one afternoon with a batch of orders to get 
out. 

“Billings is talking about you,” said the 
salesman. 

“Is he?” Harry threw his order book on his 
desk. “What does he say?” 

“He’s circulating stories that you can’t be 
trusted and that you sell goods by dirty meth- 
ods.” 

Harry’s blood grew hot. His reputation 
would be tarnished, his prospects would be 
darkened. Then came a thought of something 
his father had said. What was it? Oh, yes; 
provided the men who spread bad tidings are 
men whose word can be accepted. Would Bil- 
lings’s word be accepted? Would it be ac- 
cepted by Mr. Burke and by others who knew 
him? 


1 1 2 


SLANDER 


Harry sat down at his desk and reached 
calmly for his order book. “I guess we needn’t 
pay much attention to Billings,” he said. 

Mr. Hecker, had he heard that, would have 
been proud of him. 


CHAPTER VIII 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 

H ARRY said nothing at home about the 
tactics that Billings had adopted. He 
knew that his mother would worry needlessly. 
Besides, he felt that here was a situation in 
which he was able to take care of himself. 

During the next two weeks he watched his 
trade closely, but nowhere did he find any evi- 
dence that Billings’s campaign of slander was 
bearing fruit. Then he walked into the small 
manufacturing plant of Isaac Blum, a manu- 
facturer of odd lots who was always looking 
for a bargain. Mr. Blum was a big, massive 
man. He had little book learning, but he 
owned a vast stock of homely shrewdness. 

“This Mr. Billings,” he said to Harry. 
“You know him?” 

1 14 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 


“Oh, yes.” 

“A big talker, no? Keep a watch on the big 
talker, I say. No? And if he speak bad of 
other people Watch him, I say. No?” 

Harry could read between the lines. Bil- 
lings had told some sort of tale to Mr. Blum, 
but the manufacturer had not believed it. So 
Harry went his way feeling more secure than 
before. Here was his first definite indication 
that nasty tales would not hurt him. 

He occasionally met Billings. One of their 
encounters came at Connie’s. Billings and Ar- 
nold Keith were eating at a table as Harry 
passed. Keith gave him an insolent stare. 

“I’d have taken him out in the street and 
whipped him,” Keith said. 

“A gentleman cannot mix in street brawls,” 
Billings answered in a tired sort of voice. 

“Of course not,” Keith agreed. “But some- 
thing should be done to put a beggar in his 
place.” 

Several months ago Harry would have fired 

”5 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

up angrily. Now he laughed quietly as he sat 
at his table. Gentlemen, indeed! Mr. Hecker 
was a gentleman and so was Mr. MacMackin, 
and they were far from being of Billings’s 
stripe. 

When Harry left the restaurant, Keith and 
Billings were still at table. This time, how- 
ever, no remarks were passed. 

Not long afterwards, Harry came into the 
department to find that Mr. MacMackin had 
called a conference for that evening. As soon 
as the department was clear of customers, 
Mr. MacMackin called the salesmen around 
him. 

“The Whitelake Mills,” he said, “are the 
makers of Beveda cloth. That much you all 
know. As you know, too, this cloth sells at 
a reasonable figure. With the coming of the 
war and the stopping of German commerce, 
this country experienced a serious shortage of 
dyes. The prices of dyes went up, and the 
prices of dyed cloth also went skyward. The 
1 16 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 

Whitelake Mills began to experiment with 
formulas, and they finally produced their own 
dyes. Thanks to this discovery, they were able 
to put Beveda cloth on the market and sell it 
cheaply. 

“But it took them quite a while to make a 
perfect dye. Thousands of yards of cloth were 
spoiled. The dye was not consistent. The 
color did not run evenly. The mills have 
thousands of yards of this spoiled cloth on 
their hands. 

“It is not altogether bad, but it is not good 
enough to sell as Beveda cloth. Here and 
there will come a streak, and sometimes the 
colors run a little light and again a little dark. 
It would not pay them to cut out the perfect 
strips and sell them as short lengths. They are 
putting the cloth on the market and selling it 
as it stands. Do you gentlemen think you 
could dispose of such a product?” 

“At what price?” a salesman asked. 

“At ten cents a yard.” 

ii 7 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“It is regular Beveda cloth with the excep- 
tion that the color is not even?” 

“Yes.” 

“We ought to be able to do business with 
manufacturers who make up for the cheap 
trade.” 

Mr. Hecker nodded. “It ought to go. It’s 
a chance worth taking.” 

Mr. MacMackin nodded. “That’s how I 
feel about it. I intend to order twenty thou- 
sand yards. You can have samples in the 
morning.” 

Harry went back to his desk trying to figure 
if his trade would take any of the product 
He could not think of a single customer who 
might be interested. 

“Well,” said Mr. Claxton, “think you’ll 
do as well with this as with Beveda cloth?” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll 
be able to touch this.” 

“Give it a trial, anyway. It doesn’t cost 
anything to carry a sample.” 

118 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 


“Oh, I’ll try it out,” Harry said. 

Next morning the samples were in the de- 
partment. Harry rolled out the bolt and went 
searching through it. 

“What’s that for?” Mr. Hecker seemed 
interested. 

“I want to find a piece where the color 
changes.” 

“Why?” 

“Then I can show my trade just what they’ll 
get if they buy.” 

Mr. Hecker smiled.* Here was another ex- 
ample of brains that sold goods. 

Harry went forth on his journey. All that; 
day, as he took orders for other kinds of cloth, 
he showed his sample. The mill called this; 
Adeveb cloth, the word Adeveb being Beveda 
spelled backwards. 

His efforts brought failure. None of the 
manufacturers was willing to take a chance on 
the product. Mr. Blum studied it a long 
time. 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“How much is bad, how much good?” he 
asked. 

Harry shook his head. “I do not know, 
Mr. Blum.” 

“I must buy with my eyes closed, no?” 

Harry nodded. 

Mr. Blum finally decided not to invest. He 
conducted his business on small capital, and 
he could not afford to risk running into so 
much of the spoiled cloth as to invite a loss. 

When evening came, Harry retraced his 
steps to the store to write shipping tickets for 
the goods he had sold. Mr. Hecker wanted 
to know if he had sold any Adeveb cloth. 

“Not a yard,” he answered. 

“Dropping it?” 

“Oh, no. I may sell a lot tomorrow.” 

“That’s what wins,” the salesman told him. 
“Keeping at it all the time.” 

During the course of the next day Harry 
dropped in at the Economy Skirt Company. 

“Think you can use that?” he asked Mr. 


120 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Burke, placing his sample on a table in the 
sample room. 

“Why, that’s Beveda cloth,” said the senior 
partner of the firm. “Hello! What’s wrong 
with it?” 

“Dye,” Harry answered. 

Mr. Burke examined the cloth. His eyes 
asked a question. Harry explained about the 
run of the dye and the fact that the goods 
under no circumstances could be returned. 

“Ten cents a yard, eh?” Mr. Burke asked. 

“Yes, sir.” 

The man fingered the cloth. “It’s a bargain 
if the stuff runs good at all. I’d. like to take 
a chance on this.” 

Harry pulled out his order book. 

“Here,” laughed Mr. Burke, “put that 
away. I’m not going to dabble. We’re doing 
a nice business in straight goods. Buying that 
fabric would be nothing more nor less than a 
gamble, and our lines are running too well to 
make it worth our while.” 


121 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Harry started to put the order book away. ' 

“I’ll tell you where you might do busi- 
ness with that stuff,” Mr. Burke said sud- 
denly. 

Harry was all interest. “Where?” 

“Crescent Cloak and Suit Company. You 
know them?” 

Harry frowned. “I know of them.” Where 
had he heard the name of that firm before? 
Who had said something to him about the 
Crescent Cloak and Suit Company? 

“They specialize in cheap clothing for the 
poorest of the southern negroes. Those peo- 
ple have little money and they must have 
clothing. The Crescent people try to fill the 
bill. You ought to be able to land something 
there.” 

“I’ll try it,” said Harry. He made a note 
of the firm name. From a telephone book 
he got the address. 

“Going there right away?” Mr. Burke 
asked. 


122 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 

“Oh, no.” Harry shook his head. “Thank 
you for the tip, though.” 

“Wish I could do more for you,” said Mr. 
Burke. 

There was one big reason why Harry did 
not want to rush right off to the concern. He 
was excited over the prospect of landing a new 
account and a big order. He knew from ex- 
perience that it was best to call on his trade 
when he was calm and thoroughly in command 
of all his faculties. Besides, before going 
there, Harry wanted to get a line on the firm. 
He hurried back to the cloth department. 

“Anybody know anything about the Cres- 
cent Cloak and Suit Company?” he asked. 

Mr. Claxton bowed. “I do. This is just 
the place to come for information.” 

Harry smiled. “What do you know about 
them?” 

“I know that they make about the cheapest 
suits and dresses that go out of town. They 
manufacture for those people who have very, 
123 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

very little money. A good cheap cloth will 
find a welcome there every time.” 

“How’s their credit?” Harry asked. 
“Good.” 

“Who’s their buyer?” 

“A Mr. Steinberg,” Mr. Claxton answered. 
“He’s a fine fellow and plays no favorites. If 
you have the goods he’ll do business with you. 
What are you going to try to sell him?” 
“Adeveb cloth.” 

Mr. Claxton groaned. “Why didn’t I think 
of going there? Well, good luck to you, Dale. 
In a few years you’ll make some of us old- 
timers hang our heads in shame.” 

Harry laughed. “I guess I have a long way 
to go before I’m in the class of the old-timers.” 

He was tired when he reached home. He 
found his father shaving in the bathroom. 

“I have tickets for the theater, Harry.” 
The boy’s face fell. 

“Hello!” said his father. “What’s wrong?” 
“I’m tired, dad. I thought I’d get to bed 
124 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 


early and have a good night’s sleep. I’m going 
to tackle a new firm in the morning.” 

“Then to bed it is,” said his father. 

“But if you’ve paid for tickets ” 

“I’d sooner lose the dollar I spent for your 
ticket, than have you lose a business chance 
tomorrow.” 

When Mrs. Dale learned that Harry was 
not to go she became deeply concerned. Didn’t 
he feel well? Was he feverish? 

“Nonsense, mother,” laughed Mr. Dale. 
“Harry’s all right. He’s tired, and like a wise 
man, he’s going to go to bed.” 

Harry ate a hearty supper, and his moth- 
er’s fears departed. He read in the library 
until nine o’clock. Then he took himself off 
to bed. It seemed that he must have fallen 
asleep at once, for when he opened his eyes 
again it was daylight, and the clock on his 
dresser showed half-past six. 

Harry yawned, stretched and sat up in bed. 
He felt as though here was a day when he 
125 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

could do a big job. He ran to the bathroom, 
filled the tub with cold water, and took a quick 
dip. Ten minutes later, pink and glowing, he 
was finishing his dressing. From downstairs 
came the appetizing smell of breakfast. He 
was hungry as a wolf. 

He intended to go to the Crescent Cloak and 
Suit Company as soon as he sorted his Monday 
morning mail. But after the mail was out 
of the way, a steady train of his customers 
came to the cloth department. At noon he 
found himself free at last. 

He knew from experience that the lunch 
hour is a bad time to try to sell goods. There 
is always the chance of finding that the man 
you want to see is out. So, instead of going 
off in quest of business, Harry walked up to 
Connie’s for dinner. He was hungry, and 
prepared to do justice to whatever he might 
order. Without appearing to do so, he looked 
about the place, but Billings was not in sight. 

He did not hurry his meal. His thoughts 
126 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 


were now working along a line that made him 
frown more than once. Somewhere he had 
heard of the Crescent Cloak and Suit Com- 
pany. Where? 

He had an idea that he had heard of the 
firm under unpleasant circumstances, for the 
words brought to him a vague feeling of some- 
thing wrong. He was provoked that he should 
be bothered, and not be able to put his finger 
on what it was that caused him uneasiness. 
For, all at once, he realized that he was 
uneasy. 

However, he shook off the mood, after 
awhile, finished his dinner, paid his check and 
went out into the street. His watch showed 
fifteen minutes past one. It was time for him 
to be on his way. 

The Crescent Cloak and Suit Company was 
not in the regular manufacturing district. 
Harry boarded a trolley car and rode to his 
destination. He swung off at the nearest 
corner, and walked up the block. 

127 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

A sign, in big gilt letters, ran across the 
third and fourth floors of a big building. And 
as Harry read the words: CRESCENT 
CLOAK & SUIT COMPANY, his uneasi- 
ness returned. He felt like a person who 
awakens in the morning feeling nervous be- 
cause of some disturbing dream that he can- 
not quite recall. 

The elevator carried him to the third floor. 
He walked to the office. He asked for Mr. 
Steinberg, and a boy took his card and dis- 
appeared through a door. 

There were some photographs on the wall, 
and Harry turned to look at them. Then a 
voice came to his ears. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Dale?” 

He swung around. There stood Arnold 
Keith, whom he had met when with Billings 
at the Daylight Club. 

“I should like to see Mr. Steinberg,” Harry 
answered. 

“Mr. Steinberg is busy. I am the assistant 
128 


KEITH BARS THE WAY 


buyer. If you have any samples you can show 
them to me here.” 

The voice was insolent and sarcastic. Harry 
knew that showing this young man samples 
would be almost useless. Yet he displayed 
his wares and tried to explain the nature of 
the goods. 

Instead of looking at the fabric, Keith 
looked at him and yawned. Harry’s talk be- 
came a rambling, confused jumble. Keith 
grinned. 

“I guess you can put that away, Dale. I 
don’t care for it. Good-day.” 

Harry, hot, rebellious and defeated, folded 
his samples. He heard the door opened. 

“Hello, Arnold,” came Billings’s voice. 

Keith became lively and animated. “Hello, 
Billings. Got some samples to show me? 
Step right into the sample room. Dale has 
been wasting a bit of my time out here.” 

Harry’s face felt as though somebody had 
burned it. He threw the samples over his arm 
129 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

and walked to the door. As he passed out 
into the hall he was conscious of the fact that 
Keith and Billings were looking after him 
and laughing. 


CHAPTER IX 


A NEW PLAN 

L ONG before Harry reached the street 
he knew where and when he had heard 
of the Crescent Cloak and Suit Company. 
He had heard of the firm at the Daylight Club 
when Billings had introduced Keith as an 
assistant buyer. 

“No wonder,” Harry reflected, “I felt 
uneasy.” 

He wasn’t angry because of the turn affairs 
had taken. He had reached the point where 
he could take the bad with the good. But he 
was acutely disappointed. He had figured on 
making almost a sure sale. And he thought 
that he might have made a sale had there been 
a disposition to look at his samples. But 
Arnold Keith had not looked at them. Keith 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

had taken advantage of an opportunity to 
make him feel cheap. 

His blood began to grow hot when he con- 
trasted Billings’s reception with his own. He 
checked this line of thought at once. 

“Here,” he said wisely, “this will never do. 
Of course he’d give Billings the best of every- 
thing. Billings is his friend. And of course 
he’d rub it into me if he could. I won’t do any 
good by letting myself get sore.” 

All day he worked hard trying to shake off 
the disappointment that still clung to him. 
Every now and then his mind would go back 
to the scene with Keith. And at last, seeing 
that he could not control his thoughts, he re- 
solved to have it out with himself and find 
where he stood. 

Of one fact he was certain, the Crescent 
Cloak and Suit Company offered a market 
for Adeveb cloth. Mr. Burke was a shrewd 
man. Mr. Burke had told him that there he 
would find a market. He believed thoroughly 
132 


A NEW PLAN 


that he could sell the goods if he got a fair 
chance. But how was he to get past Arnold 
Keith? And if he did get past Keith to Mr. 
Steinberg, Keith would probably belittle his 
efforts and prejudice the head buyer against 
him. 

“I’ll go back,” he vowed suddenly, 
and swung around in his tracks. He even 
walked a block or two before coming to a 
halt. 

“No use,” he said reluctantly. “I’d see 
Keith again, and Keith would send me about 
my business.” 

He retraced his steps. By the time he came 
in sight of the big stone building of the A. R. 
Sheppard Company, his mind was made up. 

“I’ll stick,” he said. “I’ll make them buy 
my stuff.” 

When he reached the cloth department Mr. 
Claxton asked him if he had sold anything to 
the Crescent people. 

“No, sir,” he answered. 

133 


4 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“That’s mighty strange.” The salesman 
scratched his chin. “I thought you were sure 
of landing an order there.” 

“So did I.” 

“Well, what happened?” 

Harry related how Keith had treated him, 
where he had met Keith before, and of the 
advent of Billings. 

“Billings again,” said Mr. Claxton. “That 
fellow’s crossing your path quite often, isn’t 
he?” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry hesitated, “Perhaps if 
you tried them you could ” 

But Mr. Claxton shook his head. “Dale,” 
he smiled, “this is your fight. If you succeed 
in selling there you’ll feel pretty good. And 
you’re entitled to another chance. Go to it. 
If you finally conclude you can’t land any- 
thing, I’ll take a crack at it. But I want you 
to have your chance first.” 

Harry thanked him and walked over to his 
desk. He had never before seen Mr. Claxton 
134 


A NEW PLAN 


in this light. He had thought him careless 
and indifferent to some of the finer things. 
Now, however, he got a look into Mr. Clax- 
ton’s heart. 

“He’s all right,” Harry muttered. “I’ll 
try to do him a good turn some day.” 

That evening, shortly before closing time, 
Mr. Hecker met him near the clothing closet. 

“Do you know that salesmen in all depart- 
ments are using your letter idea?” Mr. Hecker 
asked. 

“Are they?” Harry was pleased. “Is it 
accomplishing anything?” 

“I guess it is. I had a talk today with Mr. 
Owens, of the notion department. Know 
him?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“He’s one of the old timers. He told me 
that he had been selling to a concern up state 
for years, but could never seem to get the 
orders he thought he should have received. 
He began to acknowledge their orders by mail. 
135 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

He says that in the last month his business 
there has doubled.” 

“Isn’t that fine? If every salesman could 
show results like that the House would have 
a dandy year, wouldn’t it?” 

Mr. Hecker smiled quietly. Here was a 
boy who, instead of taking glory from the 
incident, merely saw the good that would come 
to his employer. 

“You haven’t thought of the Sheppard 
Prize, have you?” Mr. Hecker asked sud- 
denly. 

“I have not,” Harry answered, “and I’m 
not going to. Why, that was only a letter.” 

“That’s all,” Mr. Hecker answered dryly. 

That night, after supper, Harry’s mother 
went off to visit a neighbor. The boy followed 
his father up to the library. 

“Got a few minutes to spare, dad?” 

“Certainly. What is it, Harry?” 

He told about his trip to the Crescent Cloak 
and Suit Company. 


136 


A NEW PLAN 


“What do you think I had better do, dad?” 

Mr. Dale stared ahead thoughtfully. “Let’s 
get this straight, Harry. What do you know 
about this firm?” 

“They make cheap clothing ” 

“That’s what you were told, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“What do you know personally?” 

“N-nothing, I guess.” 

“So, as a matter of fact, you do not know, 
of your own knowledge, whether Adeveb cloth 
would appeal to them or not.” 

“No, sir.” 

Mr. Dale tapped his fingers together. “Of 
course,” he said, “selling life insurance is not 
the same as selling dry goods. But — Would 
you care to hear about my methods?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“The first thing we get in the life insurance 
line,” said Mr. Dale, “is a prospect. By that, 
I mean, a person who is a possible purchaser 
of life insurance. He has either shown an 


137 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

interest of his own accord, or we have gotten 
him interested, or he is going to be married 
and wants insurance to protect his bride. 
There are a hundred reasons as to why a per- 
son becomes a prospect. 

“Once we have located our prospect, the 
next step is to sell him insurance. So far, my 
business runs parallel with yours, doesn’t it?” 

“How so?” Harry asked. 

“First you must find a buyer interested in 
your line, then you must sell him.” 

“Oh!” Harry smiled. “I see now.” 

“There are many different forms of insur- 
ance,” his father went on, “just as there are 
many different forms of dry goods. Once I 
have located my prospect, I try to decide what 
form of insurance would interest him. If he 
is a twenty-two-dollar-a-week clerk, I do not 
try to sell him a five-thousand-dollar endow- 
ment policy. Do you understand?” 

“You mean,” Harry said, “that having fig- 
ured just what he can afford to spend for in- 

138 


A NEW PLAN 


surance, you talk policies that can be bought 
for that sum.” 

“Exactly. Now, it strikes me that you are 
trying to sell goods without knowing ” 

Harry sprang up. His father smiled and 
became silent. After a few minutes the boy 
stopped short. 

“You’ve given me a plan, dad,” he said. “I 
haven’t got it all figured out, but it looks 
good.” 

“All plans look good at the start,” Mr. Dale 
warned. 

“I’m going to think this one out,” said 
Harry. 


CHAPTER X 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 

ONG after the house was dark and 



1 J everybody else was in bed, Harry sat 
in his room twisting his plan every way to 
see if it had any loopholes. So far as he 
could see, it had not. He went to bed re- 
solved that he would win out in the end — 
provided he found that the Crescent Cloak 
and Suit Company was as good a market as 
he thought. 

At breakfast next morning he was cheerful 
and happy. His father looked at him as much 
as to ask, “All right?” He gave a nod and a 
smile. 

He had resolved that the best thing to do 
would be to spend part of an afternoon in the 
showroom of the company. Garments would 


140 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


be on display. He could see the styles and 
the quality of the goods. Of course, he was 
not an expert on cloth, but he thought he 
would be able to tell whether what he had to 
offer would stand a chance. 

There were two things that threatened to 
upset all his plans. He did not close his eyes 
to them. They were: 

First, Arnold Keith would try to keep him 
away from Mr. Steinberg. 

Second, If he did get a hearing from the 
head buyer, Keith would try to prejudice his 
cause. 

However, his mind was made up. If he 
found that the company could use what he had 
to offer, he would in some way reach Mr. 
Steinberg, Keith or no Keith. Mr. Claxton 
had told him that Mr. Steinberg played no 
favorites. If he offered something good he 
was sure that he would be able to do busi- 
ness. 

Today was Friday. He thought that he 
141 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

might run around to the cloak and suit com- 
pany that afternoon. But there were many 
mail orders to fill, several letters to write, and 
on top of these came word of two city ship- 
ments that had gone astray. He spent sev- 
eral hours trying to straighten things out in 
the shipping department. One order was 
found thrown in with a mass of cases and bales 
and packages that were to be shipped south 
by boat. The other order had gone out on a 
wrong delivery wagon. Harry came back to 
the department and telephoned to his two cus- 
tomers that they would have their orders that 
day. 

Then a customer came in angry and excited. 
The credit department had held up a ship- 
ment, and he brought in his receipted bills to 
prove that his accounts were in good order. 
By the time this matter had been adjusted, it 
was too late in the day to inspect cloaks or 
suits. Harry sighed. 

‘Tomorrow,” he reflected, “is Saturday and 
142 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


a half holiday. I won’t be able to do a thing. 
I’ll let this go until Monday, and then I’ll get 
on the job.” 

Next morning there was so little business 
that Harry felt like kicking himself. He 
could have gone off to the showroom of the 
suit company without being missed. 

Mr. Dale asked him that night if he had 
thought out his plan. Harry told his father 
what he intended doing. 

“Good!” Mr. Dale nodded his head ap- 
provingly. “That ought to tell you whether 
or not you have a prospect. And as for 
Keith ” 

“Yes, sir?” Harry asked eagerly. 

“You ought to be able to find a way to over- 
come that. A good salesman will always find 
a way to reach the man he is after.” 

Harry made up his mind that he would try 
to be a good salesman. 

He had sense enough to know that it would 
do him no good to keep thinking about what 
143 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

he was going to do. Sunday, after church, he 
went for a long walk. He came home to din- 
ner with a clear eye and with a fresh color 
in his cheeks. During the afternoon he sat 
around and read trade journals. That night 
he went early to bed. 

In the morning, he and his father left the 
house together. At the corner their ways 
separated. Mr. Dale put a hand on his son’s 
arm. 

“Take your time, Harry,” he advised. 
“Don’t jump at conclusions. Investigate thor- 
oughly. Get what you’re after firmly fixed 
in your mind. Then, when you start ahead, 
you won’t have to stop to wonder if you’re 
right.” 

Harry hurried away to the cloth depart- 
ment. He hoped that there would be little to 
detain him. His hopes were realized. By 
ten o’clock he was through with his mail, and 
was out in the street. 

He went directly to the Crescent Cloak and 

H4 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


Suit Company. When the elevator reached 
the third floor he stepped out and entered the 
office. 

“Will you please tell me where I can find 
the showroom?” he asked. 

A clerk told him that the showroom was on 
the fourth floor. 

He did not bother to wait for the elevator. 
As in most buildings that are of strictly a 
manufacturing type, the stairway was dark 
and narrow. He climbed to the floor above. 
In gold letters on a glass door were these 
words : 

CRESCENT CLOAK & SUIT COMPANY 

SHOW-ROOMS 

He entered boldly. Two or three salesmen 
were showing garments to customers. Harry 
ran his eyes over the array, wondering where 
to begin. 

A young woman approached him. “Any- 
thing we can do for you, sir?” 

145 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“No, thank you,” Harry answered. “I 
would like to look around.” 

“I will have a salesman give you prices ” 

“I do not intend to buy,” Harry said. “I 
want to look over your line — that is all.” 

“Oh!” The young woman glanced at him 
suspiciously, and walked away. 

Harry began at the nearest row. These 
were suits. Before he had gone far, he saw 
that this cloth was more expensive than Beveda 
cloth. He turned to another row of suits. 

“Beg pardon,” said a voice, “but can I do 
anything for you today?” 

Harry, looking over his shoulder, saw that 
this time it was a young man who had ad- 
dressed him. Out of the corner of his eye he 
saw that the young woman who had first ap- 
proached him was watching intently. 

“No, thank you,” Harry answered. 

“If you care for prices ” 

“I am not interested in prices.” 

“Oh!” The young man said the word just 
146 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


as the young woman had said it. “Perhaps 
you are a buyer merely looking over styles for 
future consideration ” 

“I am not a buyer,” Harry laughed, “I am 
a salesman.” 

The young man’s face clouded. He hesi- 
tated a moment, and walked away. 

Two of the other salesmen had finished with 
their customers. They, with the young man 
and the young woman, formed a group of 
four. They put their heads together and whis- 
pered, and watched the visitor who did not 
want to buy. 

“Mackerel!” Harry muttered. “I surely 
am a mystery to those people.” 

And then, of a sudden, he forgot them. 
For he had reached a part of the showroom 
where everything seemed of the cheapest. He 
was sure that the garment he now examined 
was made of a fabric far inferior to Adeveb 
cloth even to the point of dye. He held the 
garment up to the light. The overskirt was 
H7 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

all right, but the underskirt seemed to be 
lighter in spots. 

“I have it now,” the boy thought excitedly. 
“They could use Adeveb cloth. The good 
parts of the cloth could be used for what would 
show, and the places where the dye ran bad 
could be used for the parts that would be 
hidden. Wait until I compare this garment 
with my Adeveb sample.” 

“Perhaps you would be interested in the 
price of that garment,” said a voice in his ear. 

This time it was one of the older salesmen. 
Harry was annoyed. 

“I did not come here to buy,” he said 
shortly. 

“No? Then why :” 

“I am interested in your line. I want to 
examine it.” 

“What manufacturer do you represent?” 

“I do not represent a manufacturer,” said 
Harry. 

He had cut a small piece of Adeveb cloth 
148 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


to compare with whatever he might find. 
Now, though he searched eagerly through his 
pockets, he could not locate the fabric. He 
would have to go back to the department and 
cut a new piece. 

He turned quickly toward the door that led 
to the hall. As he passed out of the room he 
was conscious of the fact that his hurried go- 
ing had created almost as much of a sensation 
as his examination of the garments. 

“Queer place,” he reflected. “I wonder is 
that how they treat all the people who visit 
the showroom.” 

Harry forgot that people who visit manu- 
facturers’ showrooms go there to buy. 

He feared that when he reached the cloth 
department, there would be several customers 
awaiting his attention. However, nobody was 
there. Dowd, one of the shipping clerks, told 
him that the Economy Skirt Company had 
telephoned in an order for three hundred yards 
of navy blue Beveda cloth. 

149 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“I’ll attend to that at once,” Harry said. 
“Thank you, Dowd.” 

“I attended to it already,” the stock clerk 
grinned. “I knew you’re particular about 
that account so I sent the goods downstairs at 
once. Going for the day?” 

“No; I’ll be back before closing time.” 

“Shall I attend to your mail if you’re not 
back?” 

“If I’m not here by half-past four you might 
look it over.” Harry hurried away. Dowd 
gave a whistle. 

“He’s after something,” he reflected. “He 
sure is one hustler. No wonder he’s a sales- 
man and I’m still in stock.” 

Harry did not have time for a dinner at 
Connie’s today. He entered a small restau- 
rant, ordered a sandwich and a glass of milk, 
and ten minutes later was on his way back to 
the suit company. 

“I suppose they’ll throw a fit when they see 
me come back,” he grinned. 

ISO 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 

Nor was he mistaken. As soon as he en- 
tered the showroom the young woman gave a 
gasp and stared at him as though he was a 
ghost. He expected to see her call the sales- 
men. Evidently, though, two of them were 
at luncheon, for when the young woman 
walked quickly to the rear of the room and 
spoke, only the young man came out from 
behind the display that had hidden him. 

They held an excited discussion. Mean- 
while, Harry took the Adeveb sample from 
his pocket. When the young woman saw him 
compare the sample with the garment, she 
clutched the young man’s arm and talked 
rapidly. 

Suddenly a light broke in on Harry. He 
knew now why he had caused all the com- 
motion. He had come to examine their wares 
but not to buy. They suspected him of being 
an agent from some rival manufacturer who 
wanted information as to their complete line. 
Harry had heard that men went around exam- 

151 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

ining suits so that they could copy styles, but 
he had never believed it. He had always 
thought that if a manufacturer wanted to copy 
a style, the simplest thing to do would be 
to buy one of the garments he wanted to 
imitate. 

The young man hurried out of the room. 
Harry suspected that he had gone to summon 
someone in authority. Suppose Arnold Keith 
should come to see what the fuss was all about? 
Harry’s jaw hardened. 

He carefully noted the sample of Adeveb 
cloth and the garment he held. The fabric he 
sought to sell was of superior weave. The only 
difference was in the dye. He had cut a 
sample just where there was a shading. The 
difference in color was more pronounced than 
in the underskirt of the garment. But if a 
difference in shade could be hidden, did it 
matter much whether the difference was slight 
or pronounced? 

He heard footsteps. Was this Keith? He 
152 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


looked up. A short, thickset man stood almost 
beside him. 

“You seem to be quite interested in our 
line,” the man said crisply. 

“I am,” Harry admitted. 

“Might I ask whom you represent?” 

Harry held out his card. The man raised 
his eyebrows. 

“The A. R. Sheppard Company. Humph! 
The Sheppard Company are wholesalers. 
They are not interested in the garments of a 
manufacturer — not in the way you seem to be 
interested. How am I to know that you are 
Harry Dale?” 

“Telephone to my department head, Mr. 
MacMackin. Ask him to describe me.” 

The man nodded. “We won’t go that far — 
for the present. What are you doing here?” 

“Looking at these garments ” 

“So I see. Why?” 

“To see if this company would be interested 
in what I have to sell.” 


153 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

This time the man plainly showed interest. 
“Why do you not take what you have to sell 
to Mr. Steinberg?” 

“I tried to,” Harry answered, “but the as- 
sistant buyer told me the firm was not inter- 
ested in what I had.” 

“Was that not satisfactory?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Why?” ' 

“Because I think this firm is interested in 
what I have to sell. Mr. Burke told me to try 
here ” 

“Mr. Burke, of the Economy Skirt Com- 
pany?” 

“Yes, sir. He told me to try. I tried. I 
did not succeed. I did not know whether to 
keep on trying or whether to stop. So I came 
here today to see if you use cloth along the 
grade of what I have to offer.” 

“And?” 

“I think now that I have something that this 
firm should have.” 


154 


HARRY’S CAMPAIGN 


“So!” The man gave Harry a long, ap- 
praising look. “You say you have already 
tried to see Mr. Steinberg?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“What time did you come here?” 

“During the early afternoon.” 

“So! And Mr. Keith told you we were not 
interested?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did he look at your samples?” 

“Y-yes, sir.” 

This time the man’s eyes snapped. “It is 
always possible for a salesman to reach Mr. 
Steinberg,” he said. “Could you come here 
tomorrow morning at eight o’clock?” 

“I could come earlier than that if neces- 
sary.” 

“Eight o’clock will do. I think if you came 
tomorrow morning at that hour you could see 
Mr. Steinberg.” 

“I’ll be here to the minute,” Harry said 
joyously. He hesitated a moment. “There— 
155 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

there won’t be any slip-up about my seeing 
him, will there?” 

“No.” The man glanced at the card Harry 
had given him. “I will leave word at the 
office to admit you as soon as you call.” 


CHAPTER XI 


SUCCESS 

H ARRY went away delighted. What a 
lucky thing it was that he had gone to 
the showroom. The way was now open for 
him to do business. 

He hurried back to the cloth department. 
Tomorrow he would go from his home 
straight to the Crescent Cloak and Suit Com- 
pany. Tonight he would take home the sam- 
ples that he would carry with him in the 
morning. 

Dowd, the stock clerk, had not opened his 
mail. Harry read the letters, filled his 
orders, and then set to work cutting his 
samples. 

“Well,” Mr. Claxton asked, “have you done 
anything with the Crescent people?” 

157 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“I have an appointment at eight tomorrow 
morning,’’ Harry told him happily. 

“With Mr. Steinberg?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You got past Keith, didn’t you?” 

Harry’s face fell. “I suppose Keith will be 
there tomorrow,” he said. This was the only 
cloud on his horizon. 

It did not take him long to make up his 
mind that worrying about Keith would do no 
good. That was a bridge he would cross 
when he came to it. 

He reached home that night bursting with 
impatience to tell his good news. Almost as 
soon as he came into the hall he called 
loudly: 

“Dad! Are you home?” 

“Here, Harry.” 

“I landed it,” the boy cried. “I’m to see 
Mr. Steinberg in the morning.” 

His mother came from the dining-room and 
he told his adventures of the day. 


SUCCESS 


“Who was the man who straightened things 
out for you?” his father asked. 

Harry gave a slow smile. “I never thought 
of asking, I was so excited. I’ll see him to- 
morrow, no doubt, and I’ll thank him for ar- 
ranging things for me.” 

Tonight Mr. Dale had tickets for a church 
concert, but he had to visit an insurance pros- 
pect. So Harry escorted his mother. He was 
in a joyous mood. The morrow seemed full 
of promise. He enjoyed the music and the 
singing and was sorry when the last number 
was reached. 

When he reached home Mrs. Dale suggested 
a bite of supper before going to bed. 

“Not for me, thank you,” Harry laughed. 
“I want to get up in the morning with a clear 
head. I might wake up feeling logy.” 

Usually the family breakfasted at half-past 
seven. Tomorrow, though, that would be too 
late for Harry. He set his alarm clock thirty 
minutes ahead and climbed into bed. 


159 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

It seemed but a few minutes later when 
he heard a bell. He turned on one side and 
tried to ignore it, but the bell kept on ringing. 
He opened his eyes. Why, it was daylight. 
The bell was his alarm clock. He thought of 
all that this day might mean, and threw aside 
the bed covers. 

When he came downstairs, a few minutes 
before seven o’clock, his breakfast was ready. 
He finished eating, took up his samples and 
prepared to depart. He stopped at the foot 
of the stairs. He could hear his father 
splashing in the bathroom tub. 

“O dad!” 

“Yes?” His father’s voice was muffled a 
bit by the closed bathroom door. 

“I’m going.” 

“Good luck.” 

“Thank you. Good-by; mother.” 

“Good-by, Harry. I hope everything turns 
out well.” 

“Oh, I guess it will.” Harry threw open the 
160 


SUCCESS 

door and ran down the outdoor steps to the 
street. 

The day was bleak and dark, with a heavy 
promise of rain. Harry, though, did not no- 
tice the weather. If everything went as he 
hoped A trolley car stopped at the cor- 

ner. He ran to catch it. 

A few minutes before eight o’clock he 
reached his destination. Usually, when he 
came into these buildings where manufactur- 
ers had their plants, his ears were greeted by 
the whir of racing sewing machines. Now, 
though, the building was almost quiet. Usu- 
ally these machines were not started until 
eight o’clock. In a few minutes, he knew, the 
racket would break out. 

He went directly to the office. The same 
young woman who had directed him to the 
showroom now took his card and disappeared. 
In a few minutes she returned. 

“This way, sir.” 

Harry followed her. He wondered what 
161 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Keith would say. When they entered the next 
room his eyes searched for that young man, 
but Keith was not there. Then, over at a desk, 
he saw the man he had met yesterday after- 
noon in the showroom. 

“Good morning, sir,” Harry greeted. 

“Good morning,” the man answered. 

Harry’s eyes unconsciously wandered about 
the room. “Am I a little too early for Mr. 
Steinberg?” 

“I am Mr. Steinberg,” was the answer. 

Harry gave a gasp. Then he had been talk- 
ing to Mr. Steinberg yesterday without know- 
ing it. 

“I — I didn’t think ” he began to 

stammer. 

Mr. Steinberg smiled. “I imagine,” he said, 
“that you can do your share of thinking. That 
was a clever idea, studying our line. And 
now, if you will show me your samples ” 

Harry took them from his arm and laid 
them on the desk. Mr. Steinberg picked them 
162 


SUCCESS 


up and carried them to the window. Almost 
at once he looked around curiously. 

“Adeveb cloth?” he asked. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And your price?” 

“Ten cents a yard for the goods as they run.” 

“As they run? What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean, sir, that there can be no returns. 
If the goods are bought they must be accepted 
as they are received.” 

Mr. Steinberg’s brows contracted. “Just 
what is wrong with the goods, Dale?” 

“The dye does not run even.” 

“Why do you think we could use goods that 
do not run even?” 

“Another manufacturer Oh, I told you 

about Mr. Burke. Well, when I examined 
that last garment, I saw that the underskirt — 
the part that doesn’t show — was a bit off 
color.” 

“You were sharp to notice it.” 

“That’s what I was looking for.” 

163 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Were you? But about this dye? Cloth 
that is a bit off we can use. But if cloth was 
away off, the work of cutting and arranging 
the off-color pieces might be so extensive that 
it might not pay us. You have no idea just 
how badly this stuff runs?” 

“No, sir. But I cut generous pieces for sam- 
ples, and I cut them from places where the 
dye ran poorly. If you will spread out the 
samples, sir ” 

Mr. Steinberg spread them out. While he 
was examining them, the door opened. Some- 
body came in whistling gayly. Footsteps ap- 
proached, and stopped. Harry looked up. 
There stood Keith. 

“Good morning,” Harry said. 

“Good morning.” Keith looked as though 
somebody had hit him with a club. 

Mr. Steinberg’s sharp eyes did not fail to 
notice Keith’s embarrassment. Perhaps Keith 
felt that he was under observation. He said 
hurriedly: 


164 


SUCCESS 


“Those five cases ” 

“I do not want them in yet. Leave them 
on the sidewalk,” Mr. Steinberg cut in. “Rec- 
ognize that cloth, Keith?” 

The assistant buyer gave it a quick glance. 
“Adeveb cloth, sir?” 

“Yes. Did this young man tell you the price 
the other day when he showed you his 
samples?” 

Keith did not dare try to tell an untruth. 
“Yes, sir,” he admitted grudgingly. 

“How did you come to decide that we 
couldn’t use this stuff at the price?” 

“Why, sir, the dye ” 

“Just a moment.” Mr. Steinberg turned 
suddenly to Harry. “What day did you show 
these samples?” 

“Last Thursday,” Harry answered. 

Mr. Steinberg turned back to Keith. “Yet 
that same day you brought Billings, of Prince, 
Henderson & Prince, to me with the same 
proposition. How about that, Keith?” 

165 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“I — I saw Billings after Dale had gone,” 
Keith stammered. “By that time I had begun 
to see that it was a bargain ” 

“It may not be so big a bargain as you 
think,” Mr. Steinberg interrupted. “Dale says 
this cloth is pretty much gone from uneven- 
ness in the dyeing. Isn’t that right, Dale?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And that we cannot return?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Billings sold us that stuff on the repre- 
sentation that the dye ran bad here and there 
and that his firm had an inside price which 
enabled it to sell so cheaply. How about that, 
Keith?” 

By this time Keith was thinking only of his 
own job. To save himself he was ready to 
sacrifice every friend he had. 

“I know nothing,” he hastened to say, “ex- 
cept what Billings told us. If he has fooled 
us ” 

“We’ll soon see about that,” Mr. Steinberg 
1 66 


SUCCESS 


said grimly. “On what terms did the Shep- 
pard people buy this cloth from the mill, 
Dale? Do you know?” 

“On the same terms that we offer it at whole- 
sale. They explained to us that the dye ran 
uneven. We bought outright with no privi- 
lege of return.” 

“Prince, Henderson & Prince must have 
bought the same way,” said Mr. Steinberg. 
“Open one of those cases, Keith. Leave them 
on the sidewalk. Open one and bring in a 
bolt.” 

Keith hurried out of the room as though he 
was glad to get away. Mr. Steinberg paced 
back and forth. Once or twice he talked to 
himself and Harry heard him say something 
about good weave and a chance if the dye 
wasn’t too bad. 

Presently Keith came back with a bolt of 
cloth. 

“Unwind it,” said Mr. Steinberg. The bolt 
was stripped. Yard by yard the head buyer 
167 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

examined the fabric. Finally he tossed the 
cloth aside. 

“Have it sent outside and rerolled,” he told 
Keith. “Only a bad dye here and there, eh? 
Why, there’s a bolt of fifty yards, and about 
twelve yards are bad.” He reached for a 
telephone. “What’s Prince, Henderson & 
Prince’s number?” 

Keith told him, and carried the cloth away. 

Mr. Steinberg waited. “Hello,” he said. 
“I want to speak to Billings.” A pause. Then : 
“Billings? This is Steinberg of the Crescent 
Cloak and Suit. I’m sending back that 
Adeveb cloth. I know our agreement was no 
return, but you misrepresented the goods. The 
mill sold you the cloth with an honest state- 
ment of how the dye ran. You came in here 
and lied to me. Back it goes, every yard 
of it. What’s that? What will you tell 
your firm? Tell them you lied. Good- 
by.” 

Keith was back in the room and had heard 
1 68 


SUCCESS 

the closing words of the talk. He looked sick 
and miserable. 

“Have that stuff sent back,” Mr. Steinberg 
ordered. “And Keith, let me give you a piece 
of advice. Cut away from that Billings 
crowd. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” Keith went humbly from the 
room. 

Harry gathered up his samples. Once more 
Mr. Steinberg paced the room. After awhile 
he stopped. 

“It’s still worth a chance,” he said. “Dale, 
send me two cases. I took five from that fel- 
low Billings, on his representation that the 
dye ran bad only here and there. I can’t 
plunge that heavily now knowing the real con- 
dition. Two cases will be plenty until I see 
what I can get out of it. Give me the giddy 
colors — reds, pinks, light blue.” 

Harry wrote the order. As he slipped his 
memorandum book in his pocket Mr. Stein- 
berg held out his hand. 

169 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Good morning,” he said. “I’m glad to 
have met you, Dale. If we give any repeat 
orders, rest assured you’ll get them.” 

“Thank you,” said Harry. “I’ll hustle back 
to the store and get this stuff started. You 
may receive it tonight.” 


CHAPTER XII 


A NEW HORIZON 

W HEN Harry reached the sidewalk 
Keith was standing with his hands in 
his pockets watching a man nail a cover on 
one of five cases. All five bore a mark telling 
that they came from Prince, Henderson & 
Prince. 

“If Billings had played square,” Harry 
thought, “he’d have landed just what I got, 
a two-case order. Instead, he has nothing, 
and perhaps he’ll get into trouble with his 
House.” 

The day had turned drizzly, but Harry did 
not mind a little thing like that. He turned 
up his collar and started up the street. Then 
Keith saw him. 

“Wait a minute, Dale,” he called. 

171 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Harry paused. Keith came up hunching 
his shoulders threateningly. 

“What did you tell Mr. Steinberg about 
me?” he demanded. 

“Nothing,” Harry answered. “I’m in busi- 
ness to sell goods, not to carry tales.” 

Keith sneered. His eyes met Harry’s and 
he tried to give a confident, superior stare. 
After a moment, though, his gaze wavered, a 
flush came into his cheeks and he turned his 
head away. 

“It’s a good thing you didn’t say anything 
about me,” he said lamely. He went back to 
the packing cases and Harry hurried off. 

“Keith had better look out for himself,” he 
reflected, “or he’ll be out of a job. Mr. Stein- 
berg is beginning to put two and two to- 
gether.” 

When he got back to the cloth department 
he immediately wrote out the Crescent Cloak 
and Suit Company order. It speedily became 
noised through the department that he had 
172 


A NEW HORIZON 

sold two cases of Adeveb cloth. Mr. Hecker 
laughed. 

“It takes that boy Dale to find customers 
for the bargains,” the veteran salesman said. 
“Give him ten more years and he’ll have the 
cream of the trade.” 

Mr. Claxton came to Harry’s desk. “I see 
you landed the Crescent people,” he said. 

Harry nodded. 

“How did you get past Keith?” 

“I got there before Keith came to work.” 

Mr. Claxton looked at him thoughtfully. 
“How did you know what time Keith reached 
his office?” 

“Oh, it was easy to find that out,” Harry 
parried. He did not want to talk about his 
exploit. 

Mr. Claxton was not fooled. During the 
course of the day he remarked more than once, 
“That kid has done another clever trick, but 
he won’t talk about it.” 

During the afternoon Mr. MacMackin and 
173 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Mr. Hecker strolled through the department 
aisles noting the appearance of the stock. 

“ I suppose,” said Mr. Hecker, “you know 
that Dale landed a pretty good order for 
Adeveb cloth?” 

Mr. MacMackin nodded. “I saw a memo- 
randum of the sale. Crescent Cloak and Suit 
Company, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes.” Mr. Hecker smiled. “They’re a 
pretty hard House to reach. It’s got to be a 
real bargain to make them bite. I wonder how 
he thought about going there?” 

“He went there, that’s the point,” Mr. Mac- 
Mackin answered. “Results count.” 

“He must have had a hard time of it,” Mr. 
Hecker said. 

Mr. MacMackin showed interest. “How?” 

“Why, a young chap named Keith is assist- 
ant buyer. He is a great friend of Billings. 
When Dale refused to have another thing to 
do with the Daylight Club, Keith was very 
much put out.” 


174 


A NEW HORIZON 


“Was he a member of the club?” 

“Yes — or at least I understand so. When 
Dale first went to the Crescent people, Keith 
came out to see him and turned him down 
flat. Evidently, though, he found a way to 
get past Keith, for he reached Mr. Stein- 
berg.” 

Mr. MacMackin chuckled. “Trust Dale 
for that. How did he do it?” 

Mr. Hecker smiled. “I don’t know. Clax- 
ton tried to pump him, but he wouldn’t talk. 
He’s a great example of what a young man can 
accomplish if he works hard and thinks about 
his business.” 

“He’s all of that,” said Mr. MacMackin. 
“So he won’t talk. Perhaps we’ll get the de- 
tails from some other source.” 

That night Harry told of the success of his 
campaign. His mother was delighted. Like 
all mothers, she thought her boy was the clev- 
erest lad alive. Mr. Dale took a calmer view 
of the matter. 


175 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“It’s worth more to Harry than the sale,” 
he said. “He’s had another proof of how 
essential it is in business to play the game 
fairly. A man may prosper for awhile if he 
uses false standards, just as Billings prospered 
for awhile. But when the truth comes out, 
he is gone.” 

Harry nodded soberly. More and more, as 
the days passed, he saw how essential it was 
to keep in the middle of the road. 

Mr. MacMackin’s theory that the story of 
Harry’s sale would come out proved to be 
correct. The first detail came from Mr. Clax- 
ton. He brought in word that Billings had 
been discharged by Prince, Henderson & 
Prince. 

“I got it from one of their men,” Mr. Clax- 
ton said. “It seems he sold some goods and 
misrepresented them. The buyer returned the 
goods. The firm refused them, claiming that 
they had been bought with the understanding 
that there was to be no return. The buyer 
176 


A NEW HORIZON 


replied that the salesman had lied about the 
goods. Prince, Henderson & Prince made an 
investigation, and Billings walked the plank.” 

Harry had sat at his desk listening atten- 
tively to all that Mr. Claxton had said. Poor 
Billings! He was sorry for the young man 
who had made his path so rough. Perhaps if 
Billings had cut away from that Daylight 
Club crowd 

“You don’t know anything about that Bil- 
lings matter, Dale, do you?” Mr. Claxton 
asked suddenly. 

Harry gave a start. “No, sir.” 

“That’s strange.” Mr. Claxton smiled. 

“Why is it strange?” Harry asked. 

“Why, I was told that one of our young men 
had had a hand in it. Of course, if you’re 
not the man ” 

Harry stood up hurriedly. “I must get 
some goods out,” he said, and disappeared into 
one of the department aisles. 

However, he reflected ruefully that he 
177 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

might just as well have stayed. Now that the 
story was out they would all know. The only 
reason he had refused to talk was for fear 
they’d think he was developing a swelled 
head. 

For several days Mr. Claxton winked at him 
whenever they met. Gradually, though, this 
wore off. Harry heard a rumor that Billings 
had left town and had gone West. That same 
day he stopped at the Economy Skirt Com- 
pany, and Mr. Burke gave him a merry 
greeting. 

“Get over there in the light and let me look 
at you,” he commanded. “I want to see if your 
brain shows.” 

“What’s the matter with me?” Harry de- 
manded. 

“There’s nothing the matter with you. 
You’re all right. That idea of examining the 
line of the Crescent people was as good a play 
as I have ever heard of. That was bully stuff. 
If I had salesmen who could think that way 
i 7 8 


A NEW HORIZON 


I’d pay them fifty dollars a week and a com- 
mission on the side.” 

Harry flushed. “There was nothing to 
that,” he said. “Everything turned out right, 
that’s all.” Then he became curious. “How 
did you hear of it?” 

“How did I hear of it?” Mr. Burke 
grinned. “It’s all over the district.” 

Harry walked back to the Sheppard store 
feeling a bit uncomfortable. If the news of 
what he had done had gone abroad, it was 
only a matter of a few days when the cloth 
department would know. He was not 
ashamed of his record, but he thought he 
would be just as well pleased if he could keep 
out of the limelight for awhile. Men 
like Mr. Hecker went on selling goods 
calmly and easily. They earned large salaries. 
Yet they never seemed to attract much atten- 
tion. 

What Harry did not understand was this: 
Big things were expected of Mr. Hecker. He 
179 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

knew his business from end to end. With the 
case of a youngster things were different. 

When he got back to the cloth department, 
there was a note on his desk. He opened it: 

I want to see you as soon as you come in. 

MacMackin. 

Harry wondered what this could mean. As 
he turned away somebody slapped him across 
the back. 

“Been inspecting any showrooms today?” 
Mr. Claxton chuckled. 

Harry laughed and tried to pass the matter 
off. He would make light of what he had 
done. 

When he reached Mr. MacMackin’s office 
the department head gave him a quizzical 
stare. 

“Well, Dale,” he asked, “what have you to 
say for yourself?” 

“About what, sir?” 

“About that little trick at the Crescent Com- 
pany.” 

180 


A NEW HORIZON 

“That was an accident,” Harry answered 
slowly. 

“Mighty fortunate accident,” Mr. Mac- 
Mackin observed. “You haven’t a few more 
such accidents up your sleeve, have you?” 

Harry was forced to smile. “But it was an 
accident, sir,” he continued. “I was stumped. 
I didn’t know how to get in there. Some peo- 
ple think I went to the showroom just to have 
a big man of the firm come out so I could 
tell my story. I didn’t think of that at all. I 
merely thought ” 

“That’s all,” Mr. MacMackin said dryly. 

“It wasn’t even my own thought,” Harry 
added. “My father told me that in his busi- 
ness, when he goes to sell insurance, he first 
tries to find out what his prospect can afford 
to spend for insurance. That gave me the 
idea ” 

“So it was your idea.” 

Harry was silent a moment. “I’m getting 
too much credit,” he said presently. “I didn’t 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

even think of going to the Crescent people. 
Mr. Burke told me ” 

“Burke is one of your trade?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then, if he gave you the tip, it must be 
that you have created a favorable impression. 
And, as that is the duty of a salesman, it seems 
to me that you deserve credit.” 

“But,” Harry said, “it struck me that this 
was all an accident, sir — the way the whole 
thing worked out.” 

Mr. MacMackin hitched around in his 
chair. “Dale,” he said, “have you ever no- 
ticed that these accidents always happen to 
the fellow who is on the job? I have. I’ve 
been noticing that for years. And it’s because 
I’ve been noticing these things that I have 
decided to give you a chance to see more of 
your business and have more accidents. How 
would you like to make a road trip?” 

A road trip? Harry was staggered. Travel 
on trains, and put up at hotels, and visit strange 
182 


A NEW HORIZON 

cities? How would he fare on such a mis- 
sion? 

“I’m afraid ■” he faltered. 

“I’m not,” Mr. MacMackin cut in briskly. 
“I do not mean to make a road man of you, 
Dale. I want you in the department. But it 
struck me that one trip would broaden you. 
It would give you a chance to see how they 
do business in other places, to study condi- 
tions away from home. Would your parents 
object?” 

“I do not know, sir.” 

“Well, put it up to them. How about you? 
Would you like it?” 

. “Yes, sir.” Harry was sure of that much, 
anyway. 

“Very well. Take it up with your people. 
If possible, I’d like to start you out after the 
first of the year.” Mr. MacMackin’s eyes sud- 
denly began to twinkle. “Remember, Dale, 
the right sort of ‘accidents’ always happen to 
the fellow who is on the job.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SHEPPARD PRIZE 

T HE more Harry thought of making a 
road trip, the more it appealed to his 
sense of adventure. But when he reached 
home and told of Mr. MacMackin’s offer, he 
saw his mother glance toward his father with 
frightened eyes. 

“Now, mother,” Mr. Dale smiled; “it isn’t 
so bad as it seems.” 

“But Harry is so young,” Mrs. Dale fal- 
tered. 

“I’m almost twenty,” Harry said indig- 
nantly. 

“As old as that?” his father teased. 
“You’ll be getting gray hairs before we 
know it.” 

Harry laughed. “Oh, well, dad, I mean 
184 


THE SHEPPARD PRIZE 

that lots of fellows have to face the world alone 
at fifteen and sixteen.” 

“And many of them make mighty good 
men,” Mr. Dale nodded. “It’s a big chance 
for Harry, mother.” 

“He has never been away from home,” Mrs. 
Dale said weakly. 

“We can’t have him with us always. He 
must try his wings some day.” 

“But — but the temptations of a young man 
away from his home and his people ” 

Mr. Dale laid down his fork. “Do you 
think Harry is weak, mother?” 

Mrs. Dale shook her head positively. 
“No.” 

“Then why worry about that? We’ve done 
our duty. We’ve tried to teach him to love 
the right and to despise the wrong. We’ve 
taught him to be clean. He knows the dif- 
ference between right and wrong.” 

“But a young man ” 

“If he has the makings of a bad egg in him,” 

185 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

Mr. Dale said positively, “it will come out 
sooner or later. Keeping him home with us 
won’t change his nature. How long would 
this trip last, Harry?” 

“About four weeks, sir.” 

Again the frightened look came to Mrs. 
Dale’s face. Four whole weeks! She looked 
at her husband. He patted her arm. 

“We’ll talk this over afterwards, mother.” 

So the subject was dropped. After supper 
Mr. and Mrs. Dale retired to the library and 
closed the door. Harry stayed downstairs and 
tried to read. It was hard for him to keep 
his attention on his books, for he knew that 
upstairs his fate was being decided. 

A long time afterwards the library door 
opened. His father called to him to come up. 
Harry took the stairs two at a time. 

“We’re going to let you make the trip,” 
his father said. “There’s just one thing I want 
to say: Never commit any act that you’d be 
ashamed to have your mother hear about.” 

1 86 


THE SHEPPARD PRIZE 

“Mother will never have to be ashamed of 
me,” Harry answered stoutly. 

Next morning he told Mr. MacMackin that 
he would make the trip. The news of what 
was in store for him spread through the de- 
partment. Mr. Hecker gripped his hand and 
merely smiled, but that smile meant every- 
thing. Mr. Claxton held him off at arm’s 
length and looked him over jovially. 

“Ho!” he said. “You’re a credit to me, 
Harry. You have made good every prediction 
I ever made concerning you. And now I’ll 
make another: you’ll come back from that 
road trip full of honors and orders.” 

Fall came, and ran its course toward winter. 
Harry, busy as usual, did his work and did it 
well. And so, at last, came Christmas Eve. 

At four o’clock that afternoon a boy from 
the business office came quietly to his desk. 

“Mr. Sheppard would like to see you, sir,” 
said the boy. 

Harrylooked up blankly. “Mr. Sheppard?” 
187 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

“Yes, sir. I am to bring you to his office.” 

Five minutes later Harry stood in the pres- 
enceof Mr.A.R. Sheppard himself. Thepresi- 
dent of the company smiled at him and said: 

“Gentlemen, Mr. Dale.” 

And then Harry saw that other men sat 
around the sides of the room. He saw Mr. 
MacMackin, and Mr. Pound, the head of the 
linings ; and the heads of the notions, silk, dress 
goods and flannel departments. 

At any other time he would have noticed 
the beauty of this office — the grand height of 
the ceiling, the oil paintings on the walls, the 
heavy floor rug. Now, however, he was so 
flustered that all he was conscious of was the 
triphammer beating of his heart. 

“Every year,” Mr. Sheppard said, “it is the 
policy of the House to grant a reward of one 
hundred dollars to the employee who offers 
the best suggestion by which the business or 
the moral tone of the House may be improved. 
This year the prize goes to a young man, a 
1 88 



“Five minutes later Harry stood in the presence of Mr. 

Sheppard himself.” 


) 






I 



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. 
















































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THE SHEPPARD PRIZE 


very young man. He wrote a letter— that was 
all. But behind that letter was a spirit that 
we hope this House will always maintain, a 
spirit of courtesy, of good will, and of kindly 
thought for even the smallest customer. Mr. 
Dale, it affords me great pleasure to hand to 
you the Sheppard Prize.” 

Five twenty-dollar gold pieces were placed 
in Harry’s hands. He spoke some words of 
thanks, but what they were he never knew. 
He found himself shaking hands with every- 
body in the room. And after that he discov- 
ered himself walking back to the cloth depart- 
ment glad to be away where he could gather 
his scattered thoughts. 

But the end was not yet. When he returned 
to the department it was to find that the news 
had preceded him. Mr. Claxton led a 
demonstration in his honor. 

“For ten years,” the salesman said, “I’ve 
been waiting to see the prize come to this de- 
partment, and at last it’s here. Didn’t I tell 
189 


HARRY DALE, CITY SALESMAN 

you you stood a chance for the Sheppard 
Prize?” 

Harry broke away from that, too, after 
awhile. He got his hat and coat and stole off. 
As he reached the main floor, he saw a man 
on a ladder doing something to the big sign 
that told the floor on which each department 
did business. As he came closer the man came 
down from the ladder. Harry saw that a 
wreath had been hung about the cloth depart- 
ment sign. It was a notice to the whole House 
that a man from the “cloths” had taken the 
Sheppard Prize. He knew now why Mr. 
MacMackin had squeezed his hand so hard up 
there in Mr. Sheppard’s office. 

“He’s the best boss in the world,” Harry 
told himself huskily. “I Hope I’ll always 
make good for him.” 

(0 

THE NEXT VOLUME OF THIS SERIES WILL BE 
“HARRY DALE ON THE ROAD” 








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